


To Love a Prince

by luciferinmyhead



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationship, Angst, Anxceit - Freeform, Broken Bones, Disowning, Gaslighting, Isolation, M/M, NON/CON, Rape, Roceit - Freeform, Suicidal Ideation, Sympathetic Deceit, Thomas Sanders Storytime Big Bang Challenge, Touch Starved Deceit, Violence, abusive Roman, abusive roceit, domestic abuse, exploration of trauma, i think thats it but lmk if i've missed anything, injuries, parental neglect, ts-storytime submission 2019
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-12 06:20:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20559635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luciferinmyhead/pseuds/luciferinmyhead
Summary: A new kingdom. A new home. A new husband. When Prince Dolion is arranged to marry the heir of another kingdom, he is eager to leave behind his loneliness, along with the family he knows won’t miss him - but fate is not so benign. Married to a man that does not love him, Dee finds his heart drawn to another; a man that can never be his.As the stability of his marriage rapidly deteriorates, Dee must endure the weight of his own feelings, the crushing isolation that comes with them…and the brutality of the one who is supposed to protect him.





	1. Chapter 1

Dee was decidedly enthusiastic as he was escorted through the vast halls of the foreign castle, three paces behind his father. His heart thumped away nervously in his chest as they walked, each step bringing the young prince closer and closer to the encounter that would either set him free, or damn him. Nevertheless, Dee’s stride did not falter, and he held his chin high. 

Soon - too soon - the hallway ended, and Dee stood before two massive oak doors. The doors groaned as the guards pushed them open, and he and his father were led through. The throne room was enormous, dwarfing his father’s in comparison. He had to crane his neck to see the glittering chandeliers on the roof, which illuminated the larger than life paintings that hung from the walls - one for each King that had sat upon the golden throne, and an empty space where the portrait of the current prince would one day hang. 

His attention was drawn to the throne perched atop the dais at the end of the room, and to the man that sat there - the King. To his left perched another throne, atop which proudly sat who Dee assumed to be the prince, and at the base of the dais stood a man in a fancier version of the guard’s uniform - a glance at the patches on his shoulders indicative of the Captain of the Guard.

Dee wasn’t afforded very long to sightsee, before his father stopped in front of him and bowed. Dee, familiar with the etiquette required of him, sank down to one knee beside his father and ducked his head, not wanting to offend the reigning rulers of this foreign kingdom by making eye contact.

“King Patton.” His father greeted, his strident voice echoing through the room. “I would like to extend my gratitude to you for inviting us here on this day.” 

“Well, I couldn’t go accepting a marriage proposal without meeting the prospective husband, could I?” The king responded in an amused voice. There was something inherently childlike about the way the king of this land spoke, and yet at the same time, Dee could tell that beneath that childish exterior lay deep wells of wisdom and maturity. 

“Very true, Your Majesty.” His father agreed. _His _voice, on the other hand, didn’t hold a trace of that childishness. No, Dee’s father was a hard, stern man, wise in his own way, but with a different sort of maturity, one bred from time in the war-room, rather than among the people, as Patton was known for. “I do hope you find my son pleasing to the eye despite his…condition.” 

Dee felt his cheeks heat up in a mixture of embarrassment and anger at his father’s words. His father knew what the condition was called, _vitiligo_, the healers had told him often enough as he tried to force them to ‘fix him’. It wasn’t fixable. No amount of potions or cream would ever even out the tones of his skin and make them match, no matter how many he tried. This was just how Dee was.

He kept his gaze fixed on the marble flooring as footsteps echoed down the dais, heading towards him. He held his breath as a pair of shiny black boots halted in front of him, and, after a moment, a finger crooked under his chin, lifting his face up. Dee was met with the sight of deep green eyes gazing down into his own mismatched brown and hazel pair. The other prince wore an intrigued expression as he took in the details of Dee’s face, and Dee took in his.

The foreign prince had soft, curly brown hair that made his green eyes sparkle. He had a straight nose and a square jaw, and his skin was tanned gold from the sun. Dee glanced down to the prince’s broad shoulders - even under his royal regalia, Dee could see how muscular he was. Clearly the sword at his hip wasn’t just for show. 

The prince gave off an aura of self assuredness, and Dee knew from that alone that he was far more capable and confident than Dee could ever hope to be. 

The back of Dee’s neck twinged abruptly as the other prince tilted his chin up even higher, and he quickly dropped his gaze back to the floor. The prince chuckled, brushing a thumb over Dee’s lips and sending a shiver down his spine. 

“You are Prince Dolion, correct?” His voice was loud, and Dee sensed an amount of eccentricity there. Abruptly, he felt rather small in comparison to the prince before him. He swallowed, and nodded his head.

“Yes, Your Highness.” Dee forced out. He wondered, briefly, if his father would be offended that the prince felt the need to check that he’d remembered to bring along the right son.

“I am Prince Roman.” He introduced. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Likewise, Your Highness.” Dee said, doing his best to subtly flatter him. Dee’s kingdom depended on Roman agreeing to wed the youngest prince and share his wealth. 

Besides, Dee wasn’t looking forward to the beating he’d surely receive if he failed, today.

After a moment, Roman chuckled again, and let go of Dee’s chin. “You may rise, Dolion.” He said.

Dee got to his feet, finding himself slightly disappointed to discover that he was a few inches shorter than the other prince, despite the heels on his boots. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Roman smiled. “None of that.” He said. “We’re equal here.” Dee opened his mouth to respond, but his father cleared his throat.

“How do you find him, Your Highness?” He inquired, the set of his shoulders indicating to Dee that he was making an effort to contain his eagerness. Dee was well aware that his father would be happy to see him gone, even without the money.

Money, preferably, though. His father always did like his coin.

Roman hummed thoughtfully, circling Dee before standing before him again. “He’s beautiful.” The prince marvelled, and Dee felt heat rise in his cheeks. His eyes met Roman’s, just for a moment, before flickering back down again. He felt a small smile tug at his lips. 

“What do you think, Father?” Roman asked, turning back to King Patton.

“It’s your decision, Roman.” The king said. “That being said, I do like him. He seems sweet.” The king’s eyes practically sparkled, and Dee couldn’t help but smile wider at the infectious grin the king wore. The King of this realm was surprisingly soft around the edges, he noticed, with blonde, curly hair and a roundish face. He wore a curious smile that matched the sparkle in his eyes that Dee could spot even from here.

“Then I accept your proposal, Your Majesty.” Roman decided, turning back to Dee’s father.

“Wonderful.” He responded, and Dee could practically see the gears turning in his father’s head. “I shall begin the preparations at once, if that is acceptable to you.”

Roman nodded. “Be swift about them.” He said, his eyes raking up and down Dee’s form. “I am eager to wed this stunning creature I see before me.” 

Dee blushed bright red, his tense shoulders relaxing at the acceptance, at this opportunity to get away from his father and to run into the arms of this Prince, as cliche as that may be. But there was something about the way Roman looked at him that sent shivers down Dee’s spine, and flutters in his chest. He could tell Roman wasn’t lying when he called Dee beautiful, and no one had ever meant it when they said it. Not before Roman.

The other prince lifted Dee’s hand and pressed a feather light kiss to the back of it. “I look forward to marrying you, Dolion.” He said quietly. There was something behind Roman’s eyes that Dee couldn’t identify, and it fascinated him, drew him in like a moth to a lantern.

“And I, you.” Dee whispered back.

Roman grinned, the action splitting his face and showing off the dimples in his cheeks. Two on the left, one on the right, Dee noticed. God, the Prince was beautiful. More so than Dee could ever hope to be, no matter what Roman said.

His lips tingled as Roman cupped his chin again, brushing a thumb over them for the second time, and a shiver ran down his spine at the enthralled look on Roman’s face. Dee wondered, for a moment, why the Prince liked him so much. What exactly it was about Dee that interested him…

After another few moments, Roman let him go, stepping back and returning to his father’s side. Roman nodded to the King, and Patton smiled at Dee for a second before turning his attention to Dee’s father. 

“Shall we set the date for the end of the month?” He proposed. Two weeks from now. 

“We shall.” His father agreed. 

“Then it’s settled.” Patton sat back in his throne. “We’ll see you then, Dolion.” 

Dee smiled softly. He couldn’t be free of his father soon enough. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Graphic consensual sex

Dee’s lips parted with awe as he looked into the mirror, staring at his reflection with amazement. The tunic looked amazing, even on him, and he wished he knew who the seamstress who made it was so he could thank her. 

The garment was truly beautiful, pale white for the most part, with a gorgeous yellow patterning running down from his neck to his naval. The tunic was stitched with golden thread, and it flowed nicely down his hips, ending mid-thigh. Feeling a bit giddy, he twirled, watching as the swathes of fabric at his hips lifted with the motion and followed. 

He giggled softly, and the handmaiden assigned to help him dress shook their head, though they too wore a smile. 

“Thank you for helping me.” Dee said softly, even though it was their job to do so. He’d always tried to be kind to the servants he encountered back home, and this place would be no exception. 

“You’re very welcome, Your Highness.” They responded with a quick bow. “It is my honour.” 

Dee smiled at them, then turned back to the mirror. He could feel the butterflies in his stomach again as excitement built in him, and his chest tightened somewhat with anticipation. Today, he would be free of his father once and for all, and would be married to the only man to ever think him beautiful. 

He hadn’t been permitted to see Prince Roman since that first day in the throne room - this kingdom adhered to certain marital traditions that his own did not, but Dee didn’t mind. What was the phrase? Absence makes the heart grow fonder. 

And Dee’s heart was very fond indeed. 

Dee had dreamed most every night of Roman, of that beautiful face - of those arms, holding him close and never letting go. He was practically shaking with jitteriness, wanting this wedding to hurry up and be over with so that he could finally get to know his betrothed. 

Eventually, he was knocked out of his own head by a knock on the door. “Your Highness?” A voice called. “Are you ready?.”

Dee left the dressing room without a moment’s hesitation, opening the door to greet another servant, and his own father, who wore his own black regalia edged with gold. Dee offered his father a shy smile, determined not to let the man’s presence ruin his mood, and the King simply huffed, and led Dee down to those same doors he’d entered through two weeks ago.

“It’s time, Dolion.” He said, somehow managing to sound gruff despite the circumstances. He offered his arm, as was custom in this place.

“Indeed, Father.” Dee responded softly, taking the offered arm. A moment later, he was led through. 

They walked slowly, and Dee could have used the time to gaze upon the brilliant decorations that adorned the throne room. However, his attention was entirely captivated by something, or rather, someone, else.

Prince Roman.

The Prince stood atop the dais with his own father, wearing a simply gorgeous tunic to match his own - the only difference being the colours Roman wore were red and white, and his tunic only came down to his hips. 

To Roman’s right stood King Patton, and behind the Prince stood the minister, holding a white and gold embroidered ribbon. 

Dee was pulled to a stop at the foot of the dais, where his father bowed, and stepped back into the crowd. Dee drew in a breath.

He stepped forward. 

././././././././

The door creaked and groaned as it was pushed shut, and Dee watched with a giddy feeling as Roman bolted it closed. The other Prince turned back to him, his lips quirked into a grin as he slowly stepped over to Dee. An excited shiver ran down his spine as the other curled his arm around Dee’s waist, pulling him close.

“Finally. We’re alone.” He murmured. 

Dee looked up, meeting his gorgeous green eyes. “Indeed we are.” He responded, his own voice low. 

There was a moment of silence between them - no noise other than the sound of their breathing.

Roman surged forward, capturing Dee’s lips in a heated kiss as he pulled him closer, pressing flush against him as his hand splayed across the small of Dee’s back. Dee let out a small noise, raising his arms and wrapping them around Roman’s neck as he kissed back.

Roman soon deepened the kiss, and as it progressed Dee could feel Roman’s growing excitement pressed against his stomach - he was sure Roman could feel his own at his hip. 

Dee broke the kiss to breathe, and his hands moved down Roman’s shoulders, fumbling for the strings of his tunic. He felt hands at his own back, and Roman undid the strings with ease, pulling off Dee’s tunic and throwing it to the floor. Dee gasped softly at the sudden chill across his skin, and Roman hummed, holding him still as his eyes roved across Dee’s body. 

“You’re gorgeous.” Roman breathed, and Dee flushed. “Gorgeous, and all mine.” 

“And you’re mine.” Dee whispered back, finally managing to undo Roman’s tunic and pull it off. He dropped it to the floor as Roman kissed him again, his hands running across Dee’s body. Dee could feel his skin beginning to tingle under the touch, and wondered distantly if Roman felt the same as Dee’s own hands slid up his husband’s back. 

Roman continued to kiss him with a passion Dee could never have expected, and soon their pants were gone, and Roman was pushing him down onto the bed, crawling on top of him and straddling his waist as his lips moved down Dee’s jawline to his neck.

Dee let out a breathy moan, his eyelids fluttering as he tilted his head to the side to give Roman better access. He felt teeth scrape a sensitive spot on his neck and he gasped, squirming. Roman chuckled, and paid extra attention to that spot, reaching down between Dee’s legs with one hand and eliciting a small yelp from him. Dee forced himself to relax, and even rolled his hips into Roman’s touch.

Roman pulled his hand away for a moment, and Dee let out a small whine at the loss. A few moments later it returned, cold with lubricant oil. Another gasp escaped him as Roman probed his hole with a finger, and he spread his legs wider.

Roman’s lips found their way to Dee’s neck again, but Dee barely felt them as the finger at his entrance pushed in, and he gasped.

A moan was wrought from him as the finger started to move, Roman rocking it in and out quickly. Dee started to pant, his hands reaching up to fist loosely into Roman’s hair. 

Roman nipped at his neck as he pushed a second finger in, and Dee moaned again, ignoring the faint burn. He opened his eyes - when had he closed them? - as Roman pulled away from his neck, and looked up to his husband. Roman grinned down at him, his eyes roving up and down Dee’s body as his fingers began to scissor. 

Dee let out a shaky breath, his grip on Roman’s hair tightening slightly as Roman worked him open. “Almost ready for me.” Roman murmured, stretching his fingers wider, and Dee let out a groan, rocking his hips onto them.

Soon they were gone, and Dee squirmed with anticipation on the bed as Roman lubed himself up. Before he knew it, Roman’s hands were on his hips, holding him steady, and he was pushing in.

Dee’s gasp morphed into a moan as Roman bottomed out in him, stars behind his eyes at the burn. Roman barely gave him a breath before he was moving, and Dee moaned as pleasure coursed through him like fire. 

“Ro-Roman!” He cried breathlessly, bucking to meet Roman’s thrusts.

Roman started out with slow, deep thrusts, but quickly picked up the pace, until Dee was a moaning mess beneath him. He could barely think, barely breathe, as Roman switched angles, and stars exploded behind Dee’s eyes as Roman hit that bundle of nerves inside him. 

A shudder went through him as he spilled across his stomach, but Roman wasn’t done, continuing to thrust into him faster and faster, until the ache between Dee’s legs was no longer as pleasant.

“Roman!” Dee gasped out. “Slow- slow down!” 

Roman’s pace didn’t falter, and he leaned down to kiss him again. It was deep, and passionate, and quick, and Roman’s lips trailed back down to his neck again, sucking a bruise into his skin. Dee let out a soft groan, and that must have been all Roman needed to tip him over the edge. Roman bit down on his neck as he came, stuttering to a stop. 

They both panted for breath as they looked at one another, and Dee winced a little as Roman pulled out. He grabbed a damp washcloth that had been left on the bedside table and used it to clean them both up, then flopped down onto the bed, pulling the blankets over them both. 

Dee snuggled up to Roman, resting his head on his husband’s chest with a soft smile on his face. “That was…”

“Amazing.” Roman finished for him, his arm curling under Dee’s waist and holding him close. “You felt so good.” 

Dee felt his cheeks heat up even more. “You too.” He murmured, closing his eyes. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep, curled up against his new husband’s side.

He was content.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Sparring, combat training, flood mention, drowning mention

For every step his husband took, Dee had to take two. It wasn’t that Roman was that much taller than him - only a few inches - but the man took long strides, and Dee’s naturally shorter strides struggled to keep up. He managed not to fall behind, though, which was good, because Dee still didn’t know his way around this palace, and he would never manage to find Roman’s private training grounds on his own.

Today was one of three days a week where Roman had combat training with the Captain of the Guard, and his husband insisted that Dee accompany him. Dee didn’t mind - in fact, he was rather looking forward to it. He’d never been particularly good at fighting of any kind - to the point where his father had given up on trying to find someone who could teach him - and was curious to see how good Roman was. 

Very, if the confidence with which he entered the grounds was anything to go by.

Upon entrance into the large room on the second floor of the castle, Dee could tell immediately that the room was well used. Several gashes along the walls where steel had scraped stone caught his eye, and there were many more smaller scratches scattered about. 

The room was big - unsurprising, really, but Dee noticed it nonetheless - with a large assortment of weapons hanging from the racks bolted to the far left wall. A small bell labelled ‘medic’ hung beside the rack, and Dee wondered briefly how often the bell had been rung in its lifetime. 

In the centre of the room was a large, well worn mat, on top of which stood the man who could only be the Captain of the Guard. 

He was a tall man, taller than Roman. He had a sharp face, and straight, black hair cropped short, though clearly no one had managed to convince him to cut off the fringe. He had dark, intelligent eyes, Dee noticed as they stepped closer, and with once glance he knew that the Captain had already deduced the quickest way to take Dee down. 

“Virgil!” Roman greeted as the Captain gave a quick bow. 

“Your Highness.” The Captain’s - Virgil’s - voice was much deeper than Roman’s, which Dee found to be a very jarring contrast indeed. The corner of Virgil’s lip quirked up into a smile, which Roman returned, and Dee realised that the two were much friendlier with each other than he had anticipated. 

“Your Highness.” Virgil said again, addressing Dee this time. 

“Captain.” Dee nodded his head respectfully, and offered Virgil a smile. “It’s an honour to meet you. I’ve heard great things about your skill with the sword.”

Virgil grinned. “That so, huh? Well then, I hope I live up to your expectations.” 

Dee was a little taken aback by how casual Virgil acted around the princes, but found it a rather pleasing change from what he was used to. “I’m certain you will.” He said. 

The three of them exchanged pleasantries for a few moments longer, before Roman guided Dee over to a bench and sat him down. Dee watched as Roman did a few warm up exercises, then returned to the mat with Virgil. 

They began with hand to hand sparring, Roman attempting to land kicks and punches while Virgil dodged. Dee could tell that Roman was pulling his punches when he did manage to land a blow, and he knew Virgil did the same when he started hitting back. It was honestly rather fascinating to watch, Dee found, and he was on the edge of his seat as the two men went back and forth. 

After about ten minutes, they took a break to drink some water, and Roman sat down beside Dee. 

“Enjoying yourself?” He chuckled.

Dee nodded. “This is...surprisingly fun.” He admitted. 

“It’s a lot more fun when you’re the one up there, fighting.” Roman teased, and Dee went a little red. 

“I’m not much of a fighter.” He said, looking over to Virgil. “He’d kick my ass and wipe the floor with me.” 

“How unfortunate.” Roman said with a shrug. “Well, if you change your mind…” He trailed off as Virgil called him back to the mat, and didn’t bother finishing his sentence as he drew his sword, approaching Virgil. Dee’s eyes widened a little at the sight of it - he’d had yet to see it out of its sheath - and he admired the blade from afar. 

It was beautiful, a double edged longsword with a shining ruby embedded into the intricately carved hilt. It was shiny; definitely well taken care of. Dee wondered briefly if he’d be asking too much to request his own sword, then remembered he wouldn’t know how to use it even if he had one.

Oh well.

Virgil ran Roman through some basic moves with the sword, making sure Roman remembered the basics before they began sparring again. A thin sheen of sweat began to appear on Roman’s brow as they continued, and Dee found his eyes drawn to the graceful way Roman moved, and how his muscles pulled at his clothing as he wielded his sword with a strength Dee could never hope to achieve. He seemed to be a little better at swordplay than he was at hand-to-hand combat, and Virgil definitely seemed to be concentrating a lot more on his responses. 

Dee tuned out the ringing of steel as he studied Virgil for a few moments, noticing how he was a lot lighter on his feet than Roman, and how he seemed to rely more on quick, precise movements rather than the strength of his strikes. Dee found himself fascinated with watching the Captain, even more so than with watching his own husband. There was just something about Virgil that captivated Dee, that drew in his attention and didn’t let go. 

Eventually, Virgil called them to stop, and Dee’s attention snapped back to Roman, who was beginning to lose his breath. He took it upon himself to bring a canteen of water over to his husband, who took it with a nod of thanks and drank greedily from it. Dee smiled. 

“That looked fun.” He said, looking over to Virgil as he did.

“It is.” The Captain said with a grin. 

Maybe I will ask for lessons after all, Dee thought, grinning back. 

A moment later, Roman wrapped an arm around Dee’s waist, and pulled him close to his side. Dee giggled softly, and smiled up at him. “You looked good out there.” He praised. Roman smiled broadly.

“Why thank you, my dear!” He said, letting go for a moment to bow theatrically before pulling Dee close again. Dee didn’t mind, despite the sweat that clung to him. He found it endearing that Roman wanted to hold him. His smile brightened a little. 

“Well, that’s enough for today.” Virgil said with a sigh. “Roman, you did good today. Go take a break, though, and a bath. Don’t forget you have court in two hours.”

“Of course. Thank you for reminding me, Virgil!” 

“No problem, Princey. Now get going. You’re sweating all over your husband.” Virgil laughed. “Oh, and Prince Dolion, feel free to ask me anytime if you want lessons.” 

Dee smiled. “Thank you for the offer, Captain, but I’m not much of a fighter.” 

“That’s what lessons are for.” Virgil said. “Think about it, okay?”

Dee nodded. “I will.” He promised.

Roman pulled him back to their chambers, and the two of them bathed and redressed into more presentable attire. Several hours later, Dee stood beside Roman’s throne as the prince addressed the concerns brought up by his people. There were many, and Dee was rather surprised by the patience with which King Patton and Roman dealt with the issues. He’d rarely been permitted to attend court, but the few times he’d been present, his father had been rather flippant with his citizens, deciding on quick, easy solutions that wrought more benefit to him than it did to the people. Patton and Roman were nothing like that.

Rather than taking a mere minute to think up some easy fix that likely wouldn’t last long, his husband and King each took the time to ponder helpful, lasting solutions that the citizens were always happy with. Roman was incredibly patient with his subjects, and seemed to enjoy helping them with their problems. Dee found himself admiring Roman’s devotion to his people.

Dee watched as an obviously poor man bowed at the foot of the dais, then rose and looked up. He told his story, explaining how the recent rains had caused flooding in his village, and how their livelihoods were being swept away by the unforgiving currents. Dee’s heart ached when they were informed that a child had drowned in the flooding.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” Roman said, sounding truly sorry. “Perhaps we can send workers to dig channels to redirect the water flow away from your village?” He suggested. “Or we could give your village the funding to do it yourselves?”

The man thought about those suggestions for a moment, and ended up opting for the first option. That way, they could rebuild their homes while the workers dug the channels. Roman ended up giving them money anyway as compensation for their loss, and Dee could hardly believe it. His father would never have done it.

Court went on for a few more hours after that, and Dee admittedly became a bit bored with it after a while. Though he sympathised with the people who came to them looking for help, there simply wasn’t anything for Dee to do, and he found himself fidgeting with the hem of his sleeves a lot. He was relieved when the last plight was resolved.

After that, Dee and Roman met with King Patton for dinner. The food was simply delicious, and Dee made a mental note to go down to the kitchens later and thank the cook for the meal. The whole evening was pleasant, and watching how differently Roman and Patton interacted with each other outside of the public eye - how much more at ease and relaxed they were with each other, was refreshing, especially when Patton gave him permission to drop the formalities and speak freely with him as equals. 

After dinner, Roman and Dee retired to their room, which Dee was incredibly grateful for. Despite not having done much himself, the day had been long, and tedious, and he was looking forward to curling up in bed with his husband. He changed into his sleepwear and crawled under the covers, but frowned when Roman sat down at his desk instead, pulling out a book and quill. Dee couldn’t see what he was doing from here, but he could hear the scratching of the quill against parchment.

“Roman?” He called softly. “Are you coming to bed?”

“Yes, later.” Roman replied flippantly, not looking up. 

Dee chewed on his lip at the response, his frown deepening. Another ten minutes passed, then twenty, and Roman still hadn’t come to bed. He sat up in bed again, cold without the extra body heat his husband provided. “...Ro?”

“What?” 

“Are you coming to bed?”

“Yes, later.” Roman repeated. 

“...that’s what you said half an hour ago.” Dee pointed out.

“I’ll get there when I get there, just go to sleep without me.” Roman said dismissively, and turned back to what he was doing. 

Dee sighed quietly, and laid back down, pulling the blankets around his shoulders as he curled up on his side. A strange, unpleasant feeling had grown in his chest, but he tried to ignore it and go to sleep. Unfortunately, sleep didn’t come to him until an hour later, when Roman finally came to bed and pulled Dee close to his chest. 

Dee snuggled into his warmth, the odd feeling in his chest slowly dissipating. He listened to Roman’s heartbeat for a while, noting the exact moment where Roman’s breathing evened out and he fell asleep. Not too long after, Dee followed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Unexplicit sexual coersion, semi explicit non-con, unsympathetic Roman, abusive Roman

Dee hummed softly as Roman’s arm curled around his waist from behind, and he shifted a little, moving closer to Roman’s warmth. His husband was currently trailing his fingers up and down Dee’s back, and Dee wouldn’t deny that it felt nice. Soothing. He’d had this odd pain in his chest lately that he couldn’t seem to identify, but it always seemed to ease up when Roman was being sweet with him.

He enjoyed the feeling for a while, the motions slowly easing Dee back to sleep despite having only recently woken up. It was nice, to wake up to something like this. His back tingled pleasantly as Roman lightly traced his fingers up and down his skin.

He exhaled softly when those fingers dipped down below his waistband, and shifted a little.

“Not right now,” he murmured. “Tired.”

Roman made a pouting noise but didn’t move. “Come on, I wanna have some fun,” he said, his fingers moving even further down. 

“Roman…” Dee opened his eyes and was greeted with a mischievous smile on his husband’s face. “...later?”

Roman paused for a few seconds, then chuckled. “It’s later, now,” he cupped Dee’s ass in his hands, and shifted them, settling between Dee’s legs and pressing himself close.

Dee let out a sigh. “Oh, alright,” he gave in, watching Roman’s smile morph into a grin as he removed their pants and reached over to the nightstand.

Several hours later, Dee was following Roman up the many winding staircases of one of the many towers in the castle. Atop this tower, specifically, was the study of Sir Logan, the Royal Tutor. On days where Roman wasn’t practising his combat abilities, he was in the tower, studying. Once again, he’d brought Dee along.

And once again, Dee found that he didn’t mind. It’d been a while since he’d studied, and he was looking forward to seeing how much of a difference there was between the Royal Tutor of this kingdom, and the tutor of his own, if there even was one. Either way, Dee was eager to have something for his mind to do. He actually liked learning, rather unlike his older brother, who much preferred his bed, and he wanted to keep his mind sharp.

It took longer than Dee would have liked - he was depressingly out of shape, he really did need to join Roman on his evening jogs, honestly - but they finally made it to the top of the tower, Roman teasing him over how out of breath Dee was once they reached the top. Dee was too focused on not coughing up a lung to respond.

Roman knocked on the door, and when a voice from the other side permitted them entry, they stepped in. The space was surprisingly well kept for a tutor’s study - in Dee’s experience, they were often cluttered and messy, with an organisational system only understood by them and God. This place, however, was incredibly tidy, not a single piece of parchment out of place. The walls were lined with shelves that curved with the shape of the tower, and in the centre of the room sat a large desk, atop which lay several pieces of parchment, jars of ink and quills, and a stack of textbooks that were thicker than any Dee had ever read. 

It would seem he had quite a lot of learning to do.

At the desk sat the Royal Scholar, Logan, clad in a simple blue tunic with white and black edgings and pale purple hemming. He wore a pair of glasses on his face - the King must pay him well if he could afford those - and his black hair was combed back off his face. He was rather pale, even more so than the Captain of the Guard, and Dee surmised that he didn’t leave this tower too often. 

Logan’s eyes narrowed when he looked at them, and Dee’s lips pressed together nervously.

“Ah. Finally deigned to grace me with your presence, Your Highness?” He asked, a hint of frustration in his voice.

“My apologies, Logan. Dee’s rather unfit, you see, and couldn’t handle the stairs as well as I,” Roman explained, and Dee bit his lip at being blamed. It wasn’t his fault this damn tower was so high!

“I see,” Logan said, turning his attention to Dee. “Your Highness, if you are going to be attending Roman’s lessons in the future, please endeavour to exercise more frequently, so that you don’t delay him on the way up. I run a tight schedule.”

Dee’s face went red with embarrassment. “Of course,” he said stiffly. “My apologies.”

“You are forgiven,” Logan said dismissively with a wave of his hand and beckoned Roman over. The other Prince stepped over to him and sat down in the chair beside Logan, and Dee hovered for a moment before sitting down in a chair on the opposite side of the desk. Logan paid him no mind and wasted no time in beginning Roman’s lesson. He started with the land’s geography, ensuring Roman knew each of the country’s major and minor cities, as well as significant landmarks, cultural signifiers, and the locations of the largest suppliers of food, coal, oil and water. He then moved on to politics, then language and mathematics. 

Dee’s mind whirled as he struggled to keep up - Roman was far ahead in his education than Dee was - but in the end, he borrowed a piece of parchment and managed to scribble most of it down so he could study it later. His writing was chicken-scratch compared to Logan’s neat print, or Roman’s elegant cursive, but it was legible enough that he would be able to read it back to himself later. He tried not to let it get to him when Logan rose an unimpressed eyebrow at his handwriting, or when Roman noticed as well and compared it with his own. It was fine. He didn’t need beautiful handwriting. It wasn’t like he was ever going to take the throne in either his home kingdom or his new one, so nobody else would ever need to know that his hand got shaky when he wrote, or that his brain moved too fast for the quill to keep up. 

After what seemed like forever - though he knew it was only two hours - Roman’s lesson with Logan ended, and he got to his feet, stretching. Dee quickly finished scribbling down the last of his notes, and got to his feet as well, quickly shuffling over to Roman’s side. 

After a moment, Logan joined them. “Well done today, Your Highness,” he said to Roman. “I must commend your ability to actually pay attention for once. Perhaps you should continue to join us after all, Prince Dolion. He seems to work much harder when you’re around.” 

Dee bristled a little at the use of his proper name. “Please, just call me Dee,” he requested, trying for a smile. “And I am more than happy to continue attending your lessons, if that is what you wish.”

“It is,” Logan and Roman chorused. 

Dee blinked. “Alright then. I shall do so.” He wasn’t sure why, but...he had a feeling the tutor and his husband wanted him in attendance for different reasons. 

“Well, Logan, we shall be off!” Roman exclaimed, wrapping an arm around Dee’s waist and pulling him into his hip. “Once again, my deepest apologies for being late. I can assure you it will not happen again!” 

He steered Dee out of the doorway, and Dee only just managed to hear Logan’s “it had better not” before being whisked down the staircase toward the dining hall for lunch with King Patton.

By a very long stretch, lunch with the King was far more pleasant than the two hours of tutoring had been. While Logan seemed to be rather calculated, King Patton was relaxed and friendly, and was very easy for Dee to talk to. In all honesty, Dee wished Roman’s schedule - which, by extension, was Dee’s schedule, because his husband liked to bring him along everywhere he went - allowed for more time spent with him. 

Dee didn’t want to admit it to Roman, but the schedule was beginning to exhaust him. It was so packed with things catered specifically to Roman, and Dee could rarely participate. There were so many things that Roman did every day, so many things that he dragged Dee along to despite the fact that there was nothing for him to do there beyond stand to the side while Roman busied himself with his tasks - with only the occasional break to come over to Dee and fawn over him - and Dee was, well...he was beginning to feel like something of a trophy to Roman...

“Are you alright, Dee?” Patton asked toward the end of their hour. “You seem a little distracted.” 

“He’s fine,” Roman said, flashing a grin. “He’s just pouting because his handwriting is messy.” 

Dee flushed red as Patton chuckled. “Don’t worry, Dee, messy handwriting isn’t that big of a deal! Mine’s pretty messy too!” 

Dee was both doubtful and unsurprised by that discovery. On the one hand, the King had messy handwriting? But on the other, Patton was energetic enough that it made sense, he supposed. Still, it didn’t really make Dee feel much better. He forced himself to nod and put on a smile. 

“It’s fine,” he said, not entirely truthfully. “It’s not really that big of a deal, I was simply embarrassed. Roman’s handwriting is much nicer than mine.”

Roman’s grin broadened, and Dee’s heart fluttered a little as he started boasting about the years and practise it had taken to develop his beautiful handwriting. He and King Patton continued to talk back and forth for the rest of their time together while Dee picked wordlessly at the remainder of his food before they had to go their separate ways again. 

Before they parted, Patton gave Roman his usual hug goodbye, then turned and pulled Dee into a hug. Dee melted into the hug, and Patton gave him a fatherly clap on the back before pulling away. “You have a good rest of your day, kiddo!” He said with a smile.

“I will do my best,” Dee responded, smiling back. His attention returned to Roman again as his husband joined their hands, squeezing tightly before leading Dee out.

The rest of the day was, to put it mildly, exhausting. There were so many things that had to be done, so many places they had to be, and, unlike that morning in the tower, Roman was simply in too much of a rush to slow down and let Dee take a breather. He tried to ask if he could stop and catch up with Roman, but his husband wouldn’t allow it, citing that he’d worry if Dee wasn’t where he could see him. 

Dee, not wanting to be any cause of concern for his husband, conceded, and pushed himself to keep up. By the time they returned to their chambers late that evening, Dee was exhausted, and, after going through his nightly routine as quickly as possible, dropped face-first onto the bed, groaning into the pillow as he tiredly pulled the blankets over himself. 

A few minutes later, a significantly less exhausted Roman joined him, and it took little more than a second for him to pull the blankets off of Dee. 

“Nooo, ‘s cold,” Dee whined, his voice muffled by the pillow, but the blankets didn’t return. Instead, a familiar weight settled on top of him. Tiredly, he attempted to shake Roman off. “Not t’night,” he grunted through the pillow. “Too tired. Wanna sleep.”

“That’s what you said this morning,” Roman complained. “You’re always tired.” 

These days, that wasn’t really so far off the truth. 

“Not tonight,” Dee repeated, moving to twist his body to face Roman. Roman, however, had other ideas, and his knees squeezed against Dee’s hips while his hands pressed down against Dee’s shoulders.

“Roman?” Dee managed to pull his face out of the pillow and rest it on its side so he could peek up at his husband. He couldn’t really make out much of his face in the darkness of their bedchamber, merely the silhouette of his figure. 

Roman didn’t respond except to make a low noise in the back of his throat, and one of the hands at the back of Dee’s shoulders disappeared, only to tug at the waistband of his pants.

“Roman, I said not tonight,” Dee said again, attempting unsuccessfully to twist out of his hold. Roman didn’t give him so much of an inch as he pushed Dee’s pants down to his knees, then trailed the hand up Dee’s inner thigh. A cold shiver went through him and his breath stuttered. 

“Roman!”

Roman’s hand retreated, and for a moment Dee thought he was going to be acknowledged, but then it returned, cold and slicked with oil, and Dee’s breathing hitched again as he felt Roman’s fingers at his entrance. 

“Roman, please, not tonight!” Dee entreated, but again, Roman gave him no response other than to push a finger in. Dee squeaked, unaroused and unprepared for the intrusion, and he heard his husband chuckle above him. Roman worked him open quickly, ignoring Dee’s requests to stop until he pulled his fingers out, and Dee felt like he couldn’t breathe as the head of Roman’s cock replaced them, pressing against his ass and pushing in far too quickly.

A very small sound caught in Dee’s throat, but before he could properly react, Roman started to move - slow, shallow thrusts that quickly went deeper with each movement. Dee barely even felt the wetness slipping down his cheeks as Roman moaned above him, taking pleasure in the encounter. It lasted far too long, and when Roman finally finished within him with a slam of his hips, Dee’s body was trembling. 

Roman pulled out after a few moments, cleaning himself up with a rag and tossing it - Dee distantly heard it hit the floor with a small thud - before dropping down on the bed beside Dee and pulling him against his chest in a tight hold. 

Dee didn’t react. Didn’t have the will, or the energy. A shudder went through him as Roman kissed sloppily up the back of Dee’s neck, and he tangled their legs together. The whispered “you’re beautiful, you know that?” didn’t bring with it the happiness it once had. The words were the same, but the way Roman said it was...different, somehow. The tightness in his chest that had been plaguing him had returned with such a vengeance that Dee’s fogged mind wondered briefly if it would ever go away.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Sparring, combat training, implied abuse

The weeks passed in a foggy haze, and exhaustion followed Dee everywhere he went. He couldn’t sleep, didn’t want to eat...with each passing day he felt himself slipping a little further into his mind as Roman forced him to each and every appointment, every sparring session. He was so tired, all the time, and he just couldn’t keep up. 

Not that Roman seemed to care.

He certainly didn’t right now as he dragged Dee to the training room to meet Virgil for his combat lessons, scowling at Dee’s dishevelled appearance. “Honestly, Dolion, did you even attempt to make yourself presentable today?” He asked, huffing with annoyance.

“I- I’m sorry,” Dee stuttered, not bothering to ask Roman to stop using that name. Roman knew he hated it - its use was intentional. “I’m just tired…”

“You need to stop using that as an excuse,” Roman said. “Maybe if you didn’t stay up so late, you wouldn’t be so tired.”

I wouldn’t be up so late if you would let me sleep instead of-

“Just- fix your hair, at least!” Roman snapped.

“Sorry…” Dee quickly ran his fingers through his fuzzy hair, managing to wrangle it into something moderately tame. 

“Thank you.” Roman pushed open the door to the training room, and they stepped inside. 

Virgil was already there and waiting, as usual, and Dee said a quick hello before going over to sit down on the bench, pulling his knees to his chest and hugging them. The position hurt a little - making the dull ache between his legs difficult to ignore - but he stayed that way anyway, not wanting to take up too much space on the bench in case Roman decided to sit down and got annoyed at him. It seemed like everything he did was annoying Roman lately, and Dee wanted to avoid it as much as he could. 

“Is Dee alright?” He heard Virgil ask Roman quietly as they did their warmups. 

“He’s fine,” Roman responded. “Just tired.”

Dee chewed his lip at that but didn’t say anything.

“Alright then,” Virgil said with a shrug and led Roman through some more warm-ups. He looked less tired today, Dee noticed, the usual bags under his eyes a little less prominent than they usually were. He must’ve gotten a decent amount of sleep last night, for once, Dee thought, then chuckled quietly to himself. It’d seem we’ve reversed roles.

Roughly ten minutes later, they stopped their warm-ups and moved on to actual combat training. Virgil had a new move to teach Roman today, and it took a while for the Captain of the Guard to lead Roman through the stance, how to hold his sword, and how to move it to achieve the desired outcome. Roman, being Roman, picked it up fairly quickly - it would’ve taken Dee weeks to even come close to mastering a technique like that, but of course, Roman managed to master it within half an hour. 

Dee found his eyes shifting over to Virgil - something that had been happening more frequently as of late - and he watched the Captain as he demonstrated the move again for Roman, giving him pointers on how to better perfect it. He moved so gracefully, and Dee found he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the man. 

Roman fumbled during one of the run-throughs of the technique, but Virgil was patient, understanding, as he showed Roman how to correct the mistake, praising him when he got it right again. God...how Dee would love some of that patience and understanding to be directed towards him for once…

Dee let his mind wander as he watched the Captain, allowing all of the icky feelings bundled up in his chest dissipate as his mind journeyed to a faraway world where he didn’t have to live with this inner turmoil. Where the Prince he’d married and fallen in love with loved him back, didn’t hurt him...

Where he was married to the Captain of the Guard instead of the Prince.

He could imagine it now… Virgil’s gentle hands on his, calloused from his years of hard work, his low, gravelly voice in Dee’s ear as he directed Dee through their wedding dance with patience, never snapping at him when he made a mistake. He imagined Virgil’s hands brushing up his arm, pleasant shivers running through him -

-wait...what?

He blinked, halting that train of thought. Where…had that even come from? He forced his eyes to focus, watching Virgil as he and Roman began to spar. A realisation hit him. 

Oh.

Oh.

Dee swallowed, pressing a hand over his mouth and inhaling shakily. This...this wasn’t good. This feeling… he recognised it. It was the same feeling he’d had when he’d first met Roman a few months ago. That warm feeling in his chest as his heartbeat quickened and his cheeks went hot and his lips curled into a small smile…

He was falling…

For Virgil.

Oh God, this was bad. So bad! How could he have let this happen? He’d barely even spoken to the Captain, he was married! He couldn’t fall in love with someone else! He had a husband!

...a husband who didn’t love him. 

The thought hit Dee like a tonne of bricks, and suddenly he couldn’t breathe. Roman...didn’t love him. Not really. If Roman loved him, he wouldn’t be so cold with him, so callous…

He wouldn’t force him at night.

Tears pricked at Dee’s eyes, and he wiped them hastily, praying that neither Roman nor Virgil noticed. He couldn’t cry here. Roman would see and he would get annoyed and then later when they were alone, he would get angry, he would demand to know why Dee was crying, and then Dee would have to tell him because despite the name his father had so lovingly bestowed upon him Dee really was a horrible liar and then Roman would find out the truth and he wouldn’t just not love Dee he would hate him and-

-...and Dee didn’t know if he could live with that. 

He inhaled slowly, closing his eyes and forcing himself to calm down. It was going to be okay. He was going to be okay. Everything was fine. He just had to keep his feelings for Virgil a secret…

Everything would be fine.

Despite knowing he needed to repress these new, dangerous feelings, Dee couldn’t help but continue to watch Virgil, not noticing the faint blush forming on his cheeks as the Captain moved. He was rather attractive, if Dee was being honest with himself. His sharp features were a rather stark contrast to Dee’s own softer, rounder features. While Virgil was all sharp, beautiful angles, Dee had a rather round face, and he’d only just managed to grow out of his baby face last year, according to his older brother. 

He wondered what he and Virgil would look like side by side...would their appearances complement one another? Or would Dee’s presence take away from Virgil’s beauty?

He sighed softly, a small smile tugging at his lips as Virgil managed to disarm Roman and pin him. The Captain was undeniably strong, maybe even stronger than Roman…

“Dee!” Roman called after Virgil released him, snapping Dee out of his reverie. “Fetch me my canteen, will you? I’m thirsty!” 

Dee nodded, grabbing it and taking it over to him.

“Thank you, dearest,” Roman said, pulling Dee in for a quick kiss. 

“You’re welcome, love,” Dee said softly, blushing a little. Suddenly he felt guilty. How could he have thought those thoughts about Virgil? Roman was his husband. His soft, sweet husband that gave him gentle kisses and whispered kind words and made sure everyone knew how much he loved Dee. 

How could he have betrayed Roman like this? Roman may not love him, but at least he wouldn’t betray him like this! No...Dee needed to force out these thoughts...needed to focus on his husband. Maybe...maybe Dee just hadn’t been trying hard enough.

Maybe Roman would love him if he just tried harder…

It was like a switch went off in his head, and some of the exhaustion faded a little as he moved closer to Roman, taking his hand and holding it tightly as he reached up to press a kiss to Roman’s cheek. His husband chuckled softly, and Dee brightened at the reaction. 

“You’re so sappy,” Virgil said with mock disgust, his amused grin causing Dee to blush a little harder. Virgil looked at him for a moment, then returned his attention to Roman. “You’re getting better,” he said. “But you should be sparring more often with the other knights. You’re getting too used to my fighting style.”

“I am not!” Roman protested, and Dee huffed a soft laugh. Virgil’s eyes flitted down to him again for a split second. 

“Yes, you are,” Virgil insisted. “Seriously. Go challenge one of the knights. Switch things up.” 

Roman looked like he was going to protest again, but Dee piped up before he could, a cheeky smile on his face. “Are you really going to pass up the opportunity to claim another victory, love?” He asked, and Roman’s eyes lit up immediately. 

“Of course not!” He exclaimed, as though he hadn’t just been protesting the idea. “I will challenge each and every knight in the palace, if I must!” 

The corner of Virgil’s lip pulled into a half-smirk. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

“Well, come along, dearest, it’s time for lunch!” Roman said, pulling Dee along as he left. “Thank you for the lesson, Captain!” 

“You’re welcome,” Virgil chuckled, grinning at Dee. Dee gave one last smile in return before Roman pulled him out of sight. 

As they made their way to their room, Roman gave Dee an odd look.

“Is something the matter, love?” Dee asked carefully. Roman was quiet for a moment, before pulling Dee close. 

“No,” he said. “It’s nothing.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Violence, graphic domestic abuse, unsympathetic Roman, abusive Roman

Dee sighed as he sat on a bench, watching Roman spar with yet another knight. They were in the knight’s training grounds, this time, not Roman’s private room, which meant that Dee got to be outside for once. Back at his old castle, he’d been a bit more indifferent to whether he was indoors or outdoor, when he’d had the freedom to do mostly as he wished. Here, though, rare was the day he got to leave the confines of the palace walls, so he was very much enjoying the time spent outside. 

The sounds of combat filled the air - the ringing of sword against sword, heavy breathing and grunting as punches landed and bodies collided - wasn’t the most pleasant sound in the world, but it was worth it to be able to breathe in the fresh air, to feel the sun on his face. A soft smile pulled at his lips as he watched a couple of birds flit around the trees, going about their days without a care in the world. 

He longed for that.

Sure, he didn’t have any real responsibilities here, but what was Roman’s problem inadvertently became Dee’s problem when he was subjected to it at the consistency that he was, and so Dee often found that he was concerning himself over issues that he had no power to resolve. It was somewhat tiring, in all honesty. He’d be grateful for some real responsibility, but that would entail him having to do things without Roman constantly by his side, and though he hadn’t yet stated it outright, Dee had the feeling Roman forced his accompaniment in order to keep an eye on him, rather than worry over his wellbeing, like he’d claimed when Dee asked that first day.

Lately, he had the feeling that Roman was suspect to Dee’s...secret. 

Dread seeped into him at the thought, and a shudder went through him. He’d tried so hard to repress the traitorous feelings! To be the perfect husband to Roman, to be quiet and gentle and to please him in whatever way he wanted, but it never seemed to be enough. Roman had lost the tenderness he held for Dee in the beginning, and no matter how hard Dee tried to coax it out of him…

If they weren’t in public, Roman had nothing to give. 

Day by day, Dee found it harder and harder to cope with this knowledge. Much like his feelings for Virgil, he tried to suppress it, tried to pretend that it wasn’t true - that Roman did love him! But he knew it was a lie born out of his own desperation... 

He jerked back to reality as a flash of purple entered his vision, and he looked up to see the Captain of the Guard smiling down at him. “Hey,” he said. “Mind if I join you?”

“Of-of course,” Dee stuttered, shuffling over on the bench a little bit to make room for Virgil.

Virgil thanked him and sat down, exhaling. “So...how have you been, Your Highness?” He asked. 

“Just Dee, please,” he requested softly, before putting on a smile. “I’ve been well. Yourself?”

“I suppose I’ve been doing alright. Roman’s been tiring me out, though,” Virgil grinned. “Why do you think I pawned him off on the other knights?” 

Dee laughed, quickly slapping a hand over his mouth to quieten himself. Virgil gave a bark of a laugh in return, causing Dee’s cheeks to heat up in embarrassment! 

After a moment, Virgil’s smile faltered a little. “You’ve been looking more tired, lately.” he noted. “Are you alright?”

“Of course I’m alright!” Dee said, likely too quickly. “Why wouldn’t I be alright?” 

Virgil’s brows furrowed fractionally. “That’s a good question,” he said. “Tell me. What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing, Captain,” Dee said, trying to end the topic of conversation. If Virgil thought something was wrong with him, he might talk to Roman, and then Roman would get angry with Dee… 

Virgil frowned at his curt response but didn’t press the issue any further, much to Dee’s relief. Instead, they sat in silence for a few minutes, both of them wanting to say something but neither knowing what should be said. Eventually, Dee broke the silence. 

“You’re a magnificent fighter,” he complimented, his gaze meeting Virgil’s for a moment. “I can’t say I’ve yet had the pleasure of watching you outside of your sparring matches with Roman, but…” He cursed himself internally, not knowing how he should end the sentence. 

Virgil smiled a smile that told Dee that the Captain had heard the same compliment too many times for it to mean anything to him anymore, and, again, he cursed himself for not thinking of something more original to say to him. 

“Thank you,” Virgil responded. 

“You’re, uh...you’re welcome,” Dee said, cheeks flushed. 

“You know, my offer to teach you still stands,” Virgil said to him, and Dee had to think for an embarrassingly long moment before he remembered what Virgil was talking about. 

“The- oh, right. The offer to teach me to fight,” he recalled. “I...I don’t see the point. I took fighting lessons back at my old home, and my father ended up giving up on trying to find someone who could teach me after three swordmasters tried and failed.” 

“Well then, they must not have been the swordmasters they thought they were,” Virgil said without missing a beat. 

Dee shook his head. “No, they were excellent. I’m just unteachable.” 

“Nonsense,” Virgil argued. “You just haven’t found the right teacher yet.” 

Dee was quiet for a moment. “And...you think you could teach me…?”

Virgil smiled and nodded. “If I can teach Princey, over there, I can teach you,” he said, nodding to Roman. 

Dee huffed a soft laugh. “Maybe I will take you up on your offer after all, then,” he conceded, giving Virgil a smile. Virgil smiled back, and Dee’s cheeks tinted red with his blush. Virgil cocked his head. 

“Your face is going red,” he noted, and Dee’s eyes widened fractionally. “Is it getting too hot out here for you?”

Dee latched onto the excuse Virgil provided ready-made for him. “A little,” he lied, glancing down at his feet for a moment. 

“Would you like to go inside? Get out of the heat?” Virgil suggested. “I can escort you, if you wish.”

“Goodness, no,” Dee said. “This is the first time I’ve been outside in weeks.”

“Roman keeping you busy?”

“Very,” Dee said, sighing. “Please don’t tell him I said this, but...it’s rather draining; following him around all day and never getting any time to myself…”

“Yeah, I can understand that,” Virgil said, giving him a sympathetic look. “I think I’d throw myself off of Logan’s tower if I had to spend all day every day with His Highness.”

“Hey! I heard that!”

Dee startled at the sound of Roman’s voice, scooting away from Virgil as Roman stepped over to them. He sat down between them, wrapping an arm around Dee’s waist and pulling him back over, holding him somewhat tightly. 

“I meant no disrespect, Your Highness,” Virgil said with a grin, rolling his eyes fondly while Dee resisted the urge to squirm in Roman’s grip. “We were merely jesting.”

Roman looked at him for a moment, before a grin split his face, and he laughed. “Of course, Virgil,” he chuckled. “I knew you weren’t serious.” 

Virgil chuckled with him, glancing over to Dee, who averted his eyes and kept his gaze fixed on Roman’s black boots, shiny towards the top but flecked with dirt lower down. “You alright, Dee?” He asked.

“Of course,” Dee assured him, forcing himself to relax. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He glanced up long enough to see Virgil’s lips press together, but the Captain didn’t say anything more to him. Instead, he and Roman discussed how the sparring matches had been going, what Roman had been doing right, what he’d been doing wrong, and where he could improve. Dee admittedly tuned most of it out, a little distracted by the tight grip around his waist. 

Why is he holding me so tightly? He wondered, wriggling just a little bit to try and give himself some space to breathe. The moment he moved, though, Roman’s grip tightened, and Dee fell still, heeding the wordless warning. His breathing stuttered for a moment.

Roman was angry with him.

He remained silent unless spoken to, not wanting to do anything else to further Roman’s anger. For a moment, he pushed away the dread of what he knew was coming once they were alone - anger, shouting, sex - and instead focussed on what he could see, right now. 

The knight’s training yard was large, of course. Several hundred metres each way of open ground, with several rope rings for sparring matches and one large rope rectangle for group exercises. The ground was firm, but not overly hard, the thin layer of dirt dusting his shoes. Around the edge of the grounds, about five-ten metres between each, sat large trees, giving off shade into the yard no matter which side of the sky the sun sat at. 

Dee didn’t think the training grounds were particularly beautiful, but they certainly weren’t terrible. At least there was shade, here. He gazed over the wall, trying to see what was on the other side but failing. He was too short, and being held down on the bench wasn’t advantageous to his endeavours either. He sighed softly, wishing he could go see the gardens. He’d only been able to once, during his tour of the palace when he’d first come here, but he hadn’t had the free time to return, since. 

Another squeeze of his waist brought his mind back to the matters at hand, and Dee looked up to Roman. “I’m returning to the ring to spar for another few rounds,” his husband informed him. “Wait here for me, dearest.”

“Of course, my love,” Dee said, his voice quiet. 

Roman gave him another look that sent Dee’s eyes back to the ground, and let go of him, getting to his feet and walking away. Dee’s gaze followed his boots back into the ring, silent. Virgil didn’t say anything for a while, either, and for that, Dee was glad. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach, and Dee no longer felt like talking.

“Would you like to go for a walk?” Virgil asked eventually, to which Dee shook his head. “We don’t have to go for long. We can be back by the time Roman’s done in the ring.” Dee could hear the worry in Virgil’s voice, and he hated it. He didn’t want to worry anyone...he was fine. Everything was fine…

“No thank you,” He said politely. “I’d rather sit for a while.” 

Dee saw Virgil make a displeased face out of the corner of his eye, and his gut twisted. Was Virgil angry with him too…?

No...no, he was just worried, Dee realised as he looked at him more closely. Damn…

“Are you sure?” Virgil asked, pushing the matter a little too much for Dee’s comfort. He scooted a little further away, fixing his gaze firmly on Roman.

“I’m certain,” He said. “I’d like to stay and watch my husband.”

Virgil opened his mouth to retort, but stopped himself, for which Dee was thankful. They both knew Dee didn’t really want to stay. But he had to. Roman had told him to wait for him.

So Dee waited. 

Over the next hour, while Roman sparred, the two remained silent, though they found themselves inching towards one another on the bench, closing the distance between them at a snail’s pace. Dee didn’t dare move any quicker. All too soon and yet not soon enough, they were separated by mere inches. Dee could feel his breathing becoming shallower at the proximity, could feel his face heating up.

Virgil’s fingers twitched, and Dee longed to reach out his hand and hold them. Longed to close the distance between them completely, and rest his head against Virgil’s shoulder, close his eyes and listen to the Captain’s heartbeat. Almost of its own free will, his hand moved, sliding across his thigh to rest on the bench between them. He saw Virgil’s eyes flick down to it, then back up, his own hand moving slowly towards it.

A cry of victory from Roman had Dee’s hand snapping back to his lap, jerking away from Virgil like he’d been burned. How stupid could he be? His husband was barely a yard away from him and here he was, about to hold the hand of another man! The Captain of the Guard, no less! What was he, a harlot?

His face burned red at the thought, and he wrung his hands together, his lower lip trembling. What was he doing? He was supposed to be repressing these feelings, not encouraging them! Virgil was off-limits, and Dee was, once again, married! 

Dee’s entire being filled with shame at what he’d been about to do. It was bad enough that he’d fallen in love with someone else, but to attempt to act on those feelings? Dee truly had betrayed his husband.

He was despicable. 

He scooted over to the end of the bench, putting as much distance between himself and Virgil as he could without being overly suspicious to those around them. His heart ached as he heard Virgil’s quiet, disappointed sigh, even as his heart leaped as his mind begged the question - does the Captain return my feelings? 

His knee jerk reaction was to say that no, of course Virgil didn’t feel the same way about him. He was, well, him! He was brave, and strong, and talented and wonderful and everything Dee wasn’t! He was also an honourable man, and no man claiming honour would chase after the husband of the Prince.

And yet… 

And yet Virgil had been about to take Dee’s hand…

The flame of Dee’s inner turmoil roared at the thought, and he fixed his gaze firmly to the ground. How could he have let himself slip this far? He should’ve stamped out these feelings the moment they’d begun. He was such a fool… 

He remained completely silent until Roman returned, not wanting to risk doing something stupid again if he let himself talk to Virgil. When his husband did finally return, Dee got to his feet, eager to run away from whatever madness Virgil had infected him with. Roman said his goodbyes to Virgil, and Dee gave him a respectful nod as they left, going about the rest of their usual busy day. 

Dee barely spoke another word until they returned to their chambers that evening.

Once they were alone, Dee prepared himself to be verbally berated for whatever Roman thought he’d done, or to be shoved down onto the bed. 

He wasn’t prepared for the silence.

The silence ate away at him, Roman’s glare burning through him like fire. He was silent for so long that eventually, Dee broke the silence, unable to stand it any longer.

“My love, what is the matter?” He asked quietly. Roman scoffed.

“‘My love’,” he mimicked, his eyes raging as he stared Dee down. “Tell me, ‘my love’, who truly holds your affection? Is it me, your adoring husband? Or is it someone else?” Dee’s stomach felt like an empty pit as Roman stepped slowly closer, drawing himself to his full height as Dee shrank in on himself with wide eyes. Roman stopped barely a foot away from him, and at his next words, Dee’s heart stopped.

“Or is it Virgil?”

Dee’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. He stared up at Roman, his eyes filled with guilt and shame. 

His head snapped to the side as the sound of Roman’s palm connecting with his cheek echoed through their chambers, and Dee barely even heard his own cry over the ringing in his ear. He stumbled backwards, but Roman grabbed him by the collar of his tunic, pulling him back towards him. 

“You little wench!” He spat, shaking Dee roughly. Dee yelped, his hands gripping Roman’s wrists as his eyes widened with fear. 

“I- I’m sorry! I never meant to- I haven’t done anything I still love you I swear-”

“DON’T LIE TO ME!” Roman roared, backhanding him. Dee cried out as his vision went white, and he tried to pull away from Roman. 

“I’m not lying!” He cried pleadingly, tears burning in his eyes as his cheeks stung painfully. “I swear it!”

Roman roared, throwing Dee against the wall and slamming his fist into his stomach. Dee doubled over, but Roman wasn’t done. His knuckles connected with the side of Dee’s face and he went down, collapsing to the floor with a cry of pain.

A strangled scream burst from his lips as Roman slammed his boot into Dee’s ribs, and then again into his belly. He coughed and sputtered, scrambling to try and get to his feet, but Roman kicked him down again, his boot slamming into Dee’s sternum.

All the breath rushed from his lungs and he wheezed in agony, falling back down to the floor with a harsh thud that reverberated through his bones. Tears streamed down his face as he tried breathlessly to plead with Roman, but his words fell on deaf ears. 

He lost his breath again as he was yanked to his feet by his collar, choking for a moment until Roman slammed his head against the wall. A silent scream forced its way past his lips as stars exploded behind his eyes, and he felt a hot, sticky wetness run down the side of his face, coating his lips with its coppery tang. His eyes rolled up into his head.

He didn’t know how long Roman spent throwing him around the room, just that he’d been thrown against almost every item of furniture they possessed. By the time Roman finally stopped, Dee was bleeding from another spot on his head, and he was coughing blood. Roman dropped him to the floor, and Dee let out a grunt at the impact. He could hear Roman breathing heavily above him. 

“Don’t you...ever...even think about...about Virgil again...do you understand?” He panted, and Dee nodded wordlessly, unable to speak. He heard Roman give some sort of response, but whatever his husband had said was lost to him as unconsciousness finally claimed him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Violence, broken bones, implied rape, unsympathetic Roman, abusive Roman

Dee had never worn the face paint that higher-class women were often seen to wear, especially in court, but today, his face was covered in it. Roman had sought out one of the face artists in the palace and paid her very heavy coin to conceal Dee’s bruising. She had done her work with a neutral face, and Dee was suspect that he wasn’t the only bruised face she’d been paid to cover-up over the years. 

God, wasn’t that simply awful?

The entire experience had been abysmal- he’d had to stay stock still while she worked - occasionally he’d wriggle, and she’d get frustrated and snap at him to sit still, and Roman would glare at him from beside her. Not to mention that his face felt like it had been dipped into mud, but...at least it covered the bruises. 

It couldn’t cover up the pain, though.

Every part of Dee’s body hurt. His torso was littered with even more bruising than his face, and every time he moved - even just a little - white-hot pain would shoot through him, and he had to just grit his teeth and bear it silently. He didn’t want to imagine even for a moment the wrath he’d face from Roman if he didn’t…

Walking to the training area was agonising, and it took every bit of self-control Dee possessed not to let any noises of pain escape his throat, no matter how difficult it was. When he finally made it to the bench, he sat down slowly and carefully, exhaling in relief when he was finally off his feet. 

The other knights were warming up, and Roman went to join them, leaving Dee to suffer through his pain alone for a while. 

Dee didn’t even try to focus on what they were doing today, the pounding in his head too persistent to warrant any such attempts. Instead, he closed his eyes, leaning back on the bench and breathing slowly. 

He winced when he didn’t move slow enough, and his chest constricted in pain. He wheezed quietly, holding his breath for a few moments to let the pain pass before he tried again, much slower this time. 

The pounding in his head only grew worse as the knights finished their warmups and began sparring properly, the ringing of sword against sword piercing his ears and sending a sharp pain through his skull. He winced, wanting nothing more than to get up off this bench and go somewhere quiet - the gardens, maybe, or the library - but he couldn’t - if he left Roman’s sight, then he’d only find himself in even more pain. 

He faded out for a bit, the sounds of his surroundings becoming muted for a while as his body tried to slip into sleep, but a voice pierced his haze and forced his eyes open.

Virgil. 

Dee jerked back as he opened his eyes to see Virgil standing right in front of him, and a jolt of pain shot through him at the movement. 

“Dee? Are you okay?” The Captain asked, and Dee forced himself to give a small nod. 

“I’m fine,” he said, somehow managing to hide the pain from his voice. “You merely startled me, is all.” 

Virgil nodded doubtfully, then tilted his head, eyes narrowing. 

“Are you wearing-”

“Virgil!”

Dee let out a relieved breath as Roman called Virgil’s attention away from the question he’d been about to ask, but tensed a little when his husband strode over to them. 

“How are you, Roman?” Virgil asked, turning around to face him. 

“I’m feeling splendid on this fine morning!” Roman exclaimed with a grin. “So splendid, in fact, that I’ve decided to challenge someone new.” 

“Is that so?” Virgil asked with a chuckle. “And who would that be?”

Roman’s grin widened, and his eyes flicked to Dee for a split second - long enough for the familiar feeling of dread to settle in Dee’s stomach. 

“You.”

Though Dee couldn't see Virgil's face, he imagined it was one of surprise. “Really?” He asked, almost disbelievingly. “You want to challenge me?”

“I do,” Roman confirmed. 

Virgil pondered that for a moment, then shrugged. “Sure. Why not?” He responded. “If you really want your ass kicked this early in the morning, then who am I but to oblige you?”

“Wonderful!” Roman clapped Virgil over the shoulder. “I’ll be with you in a moment - I must have a kiss of good luck from my husband before I battle a worthy foe such as you.” 

Virgil chuckled again and set off towards the training ring, while Roman stepped closer to Dee, gripping his chin between his thumb and his forefinger and tilting Dee’s head up. 

“You’re going to watch,” he said, his voice quiet enough that only Dee could hear him. “You’re going to watch every moment, do you understand?” 

A shudder ran through Dee, and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe. His throat closed over and he couldn’t speak, so he nodded his understanding before Roman could get angry with him. 

“Good,” Roman said lowly, leaning in to kiss him for a moment before walking away, leaving Dee trembling where he sat. 

Dee watched with trepidation as Roman approached the sparring ring, where Virgil stood waiting for him, sword drawn. Roman strode up to him, and stopped but a few feet away, drawing his own sword from its sheath and bowed.

Virgil bowed back, and, just like that, the match had begun.

Roman acted first, lunging forward and swinging his sword. Virgil’s sword met it halfway, and the ringing reverberated in Dee’s ears as the two fought for the upper hand. After a moment, Virgil jumped back, then stepped to the side, swinging at Roman in a low arc that Roman only just managed to block. 

They danced around like this, one attacking, the other defending, then switching it up. They moved in and out and back and forth so much that Dee struggled to keep up with what was happening, his breath coming short and shallow. 

For a while it seemed as though Virgil was going to win, as he blocked and parried every attack Roman made, countering with his own. For a while, it seemed Dee had nothing to fear. 

Roman went in for another attack, and even Dee could see the false attack for what it was. Roman very obviously feigned left, and when Virgil moved to block the incoming attack to the right, Roman surged forward, pushing through with his attack to the left. His sword struck Virgil’s armour so hard that the sound echoed across the ring, and Virgil let out a startled sound as he stumbled. Roman seized the opportunity, striking Virgil’s sword out of his hand and snatching his wrist. He moved so quickly it was impossible to focus on him, twisting Virgil’s arm behind his back and kicking his feet out from under him.

Then Roman snapped Virgil’s arm over his knee. 

Virgil’s scream was terrible, painful and loud enough to cover up the horrified scream that escaped Dee as his hands flew to his mouth in shock.

The other knights rushed forward, separating Roman from Virgil as one of them ran to fetch a healer. Roman stumbled backwards, his face morphing into shock as he realised what he’d done - Dee saw through it, knew it’d been intentional, knew this was an act he was putting on for the audience-

Virgil’s screaming tapered off into pained groans as someone inspected his arm, and before Dee even knew what he was doing he’d made his way over to them, gasping at the sight. One of the knights removed Virgil’s arm guard, and Dee’s stomach lurched as white protruded from his pale skin.

He startled as he felt a hand on his shoulder, and his head snapped to the side to look at Roman, standing beside him solemnly. “Don’t look away,” his voice was so low Dee barely heard him, but he obeyed, his entire body shaking as he forced himself to stare at the wound Roman had inflicted upon his friend. 

A healer arrived quickly, and Virgil was carried away to the infirmary to be treated properly. Most of the knights scattered, except for one or two who stayed behind to ask Roman what had happened. 

“It was an accident!” Roman lied as he squeezed Dee’s hand tightly. “I never meant to hurt him! His arm caught on my knee when I dropped him!” 

Dee exhaled shakily as the knights nodded, believing his lies. Of course they did - Roman was the Prince. He was honourable. He would never tell a lie.

Roman squeezed Dee’s hand again tightly as he excused himself back to his bedchambers, declaring that he was going to take the rest of the day to himself after what had just happened. 

Then he dragged Dee back inside. 

Dee was silent the entire walk there, trembling as tears spilled down his face. Sheer terror pulsed through his veins as his husband bolted their door shut, then turned to face him. 

“This is your fault, you know,” he said.

“What? How is it- you broke his arm!” Dee sputtered, yelping when Roman slapped him across the face. 

“This is your fault!” He repeated, louder this time. “Do you understand me?” His eyes blazed with fury, and Dee shrank back away from him. 

It had been a power play, Dee realised with horror as he whispered that he understood. This had been the consequence of Dee’s feelings… 

It was his fault Virgil was hurt. 

“If you ever so much as think about him again, I’ll do a whole lot worse, do you understand?” 

Dee squeaked. “I- I understand!” 

“Good. Do not make me hurt him again.” Dee whimpered as he nodded, and Roman stalked forward, shoving him down onto the bed. Dee yelped in pain.

“You belong to me,” Roman growled as he removed Dee’s clothing, and Dee whimpered quietly, shutting his eyes as his legs were forced apart. 

He didn’t need to be reminded after what Roman had already done today…

When it was over, Roman left him on the bed, disappearing - to where, Dee didn’t know. Didn’t care. He laid there on the bed for a long while, letting the world drift in and out of focus.

Eventually, he forced his bruised, aching body up and off the bed, leaning against the wall for support as he stumbled into the bath chambers. He washed the paint off his face, then ran himself a hot bath, not caring that it was far too hot as he slipped into the water, letting it engulf all but his head. 

For a long time, he just laid there, letting the burn of the hot water distract him from the pain he felt everywhere else. He hugged himself beneath the water as tears slipped down his cheeks. 

When the water started to cool down he forced himself to move, to wash himself. He scrubbed away the blood and sweat and everything else that had stuck to his skin, watching as the water changed from clear to murky. 

He blinked tiredly as he stared at the water for a while, trying to hold himself together. His chest began to tighten again, and his throat closed over. A sob tore from his throat as images of Virgil flashed into his mind, on the ground and screaming in pain. Soon he was crying properly, sobbing as tears streamed down his face. This was all his fault.

If he hadn’t let himself fall in love with Virgil, then Roman wouldn't have gotten angry, wouldn't have challenged the Captain to a fight, wouldn't have broken his arm. 

It was all Dee's fault.

He needed to control this - control this traitorous heart of his and lock it away. He needed to lock away his heart so that he couldn't feel anything at all. If he couldn't love Roman, his husband, then he didn't deserve to love anyone at all…

Didn't deserve to be loved. 

Another broken sob tore from his throat, and he pressed a hand over his mouth to shut himself up. He didn't deserve to cry when Virgil had been hurt because of him. He didn't deserve to feel his own pain when Virgil had been hurt so much worse.

Dee didn't deserve anything.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Graphic violence, graphic domestic abuse, explicit non-con, unsympathetic Roman, abusive Roman

Several days passed after the...accident...and Dee had barely spoken a word. Quite a number of people commented on how quiet he was - “Are you alright, Your Highness? You’ve been much quieter than usual” - but Dee just told them he was worried about Virgil.

At least that wasn’t a lie…

Roman hadn’t permitted Dee to see Virgil in the medical wing, and Dee didn’t dare ask. He knew if he did it would only add to Roman’s anger, make him think Dee still loved Virgil -

-which he did-

\- but Dee needed Roman to think that he’d gotten over his little crush. 

If only he could make himself believe that too…

He’d barely eaten all week. Most of the food on his plate went cold, and if he did manage to force it all down it always came right back up not long after. He was losing weight quickly, not that Roman seemed to notice. Or, if he did notice, he didn’t care.

Dee didn’t dwell too long on which it could be. He wasn’t sure which option was worse.

Roman still forced Dee to accompany him through his daily schedule, and Dee was more certain than ever that it was because Roman wanted to make sure Dee couldn’t be doing anything he didn’t approve of. Not because he wanted to keep Dee safe.

Dee scoffed at that.

Safe.

The bruises littering his body certainly didn’t sway much in favour of safe.

He barely concentrated on anything that was happening around him lately. He just sat still, letting himself fall into the recesses of his own mind as people walked and talked around him. Whenever someone grew concerned, Roman was always there to assure them that Dee was fine. 

Really. He was fine. 

He wasn’t.

It still hurt to move after the beating he’d received the other day, and though he tried to be good for Roman, he could tell another one was soon approaching. Today. Roman had been moody and agitated since he’d woken up this morning, had slapped Dee for not dressing quick enough. And with how spaced out Dee had been today…

Truly, today, moreso than the days before, he’d tried to focus on what was happening, but it was impossible. His mind just slipped back into the foggy haze that had been near inescapable ever since Roman had broken Virgil’s arm, and he just couldn’t pull himself out of it. 

Virgil’s scream still echoed in his head. 

It haunted him throughout the day, and it tormented him at night. He was barely sleeping. Most of the night he’d lay awake under the blankets, eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling. He didn’t dare close his eyes lest he be reminded of what he’d seen. Hearing it was bad enough…

The sound of screaming slowly replaced itself with footsteps as the real world began to bleed through his haze, and Dee realised that they were walking - descending the staircase of Logan’s tower. Roman must have finished his tutoring session already. 

Which meant it was time for lunch with Patton. 

“Pull yourself together,” Roman hissed under his breath as they walked. “I’m sick of telling people you’re fine. Start. Acting. Like it.” 

“Sorry,” Dee murmured, inhaling deeply as he straightened his shoulders and rubbed at his eyes. He blinked away some of the dizziness and attempted to focus. You’re still a Prince. You need to look like it, he reminded himself, inhaling slowly again. He could do this. He could do this…

He could pretend. If for no one else then for Patton.

Lunch with the King was, as it always was, pleasant - at least on the surface. Dee managed to put on a pretty convincing show for Roman’s father, talking as animatedly as he could - which, admittedly, wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing - about whatever happened across his mind, provided it wasn’t about the Captain of the Guard. 

He wasn’t stupid enough to even approach the topic of Virgil with Roman around.

At least his act seemed to fool the King. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Dee,” he said as they ate. “I’ve been worried about you these past couple of days.” Though Roman didn’t actually look at him, he could practically feel the fury. How dare Dee worry Patton. 

“Thank you for your concern,” he said, managing a small smile. “But I’ve been alright. I apologise for worrying you.”

“There’s no need to apologise, kiddo!” Patton said, and Dee smiled just a little bit more. “I’m just glad you’re okay!” 

Okay.

Dee was many things, lately, but he was certain that ‘okay’ wasn’t one of them. 

Once lunch ended, they went about the rest of their day, Dee doing his best to keep up the cheerful act, but the longer the day went on, the further the act slipped, and the more obvious it was how tired he felt. 

By the time they returned to their chambers, Dee couldn’t even pretend to smile. He could feel how stiff Roman was beside him as they entered, and a cold shiver ran through him as he braced himself. 

The backhand came hard, but Dee managed to not be too loud when he cried out. He stumbled backwards. 

“What part of put yourself together do you not understand?” He snapped, looking furious. “Why did I get stuck with such a fucking useless husband?”

Dee flinched at the words, each one cutting into him like knives. “I- I’m sorry! I tried, I swear-”

“You’re trying, alright. Trying my fucking patience!” Roman struck him again, and Dee yelped this time as blood dribbled down his split lip. "You’re so fucking infuriating! You’re pathetic!” He grabbed Dee by the shirt, shoving him against the wall. Dee cried out as his head smacked against the bricks, his head going fuzzy as Roman continued to scream at him. 

Suddenly he was being thrown to the ground, and his knees cracked painfully against the floor, a sharp agony shooting up his right leg as he let out a loud scream. He lurched to the side in an attempt to take the pressure off his knees, another pained sound escaping him as agony pulsed in his knee. He barely felt the boot to the shoulder in comparison, but jerked back all the same, twisting onto his behind and struggling to scoot away with one leg. 

Roman snarled in frustration, grabbing Dee harshly by the hair and yanking him back to his feet. Dee’s knee immediately buckled, emitting a sharp cry as he fell, only Roman’s grip on his hair keeping him upright. He whimpered, almost completely blinded by pain.

“R-Roman- please…” He begged softly, tears running down his face. “Please, I’m sorry!” 

“You will be sorry, that’s for certain,” Roman snapped, backhanding him across the face.

As Dee’s cry rang through the room, Roman’s door pushed open. 

Virgil sighed dramatically as he slowly made his way to Prince Roman’s chambers, staring at the broken arm currently resting in a sling against his torso. It, unsurprisingly really hurt. Yes, he’d had worse injuries in the past - such is the life of a knight - but that didn’t stop this injury from hurting now. He scowled. “Shouldn’t hurt this bad. I’m such a wuss,” he grumbled. “Other people probably have it worse. What am I bitching for?”

“The fact that some others may have it ‘worse’, does not detract from the pain you feel now.” The wise words of the Royal Scholar echoed in his mind, and the corner of his lips quirked into a small smile. Logan was an uptight pain in Virgil’s ass sometimes, but Virgil couldn’t help but love the man. He was a good friend, and one of the few that Virgil actually trusted with anything important.

Or, in fact, trivial. 

He often found himself in Logan’s tower, complaining about this and that because Logan was the only one who Virgil trusted to listen without judging him for whining about how the food he’d been served went cold while he trained, or about how his sword took longer than normal to sharpen, or about how his pupil had broken his arm during a sparring match. 

He scowled again. Thanks to that little brat, he’d had to spend three whole days in the medical wing, being force-fed draughts to ‘ease the pain’ and ‘mend the bone’. He wasn’t sure he believed that what he’d been given could really do all that much, but he’d drank it nonetheless, if nothing else because Logan would have scolded him if he’d refused. 

Three whole days where no work had been done. The knights had all been given the rest of the day off after the initial incident, and Virgil had been forced to delegate one of the senior knights to take over training for him since he was no longer capable of doing so himself for the foreseeable future. 

God damn that Prince. What on earth had he been thinking? Virgil shook his head as he turned down the corridor towards Roman’s chambers. He was gonna give that Prince the scolding of a lifetime, that was for sure.

...he’d also very much like to see Dee again. 

As much as he hated to admit it, he...really, really liked Dee. The Prince was so kind, and friendly, and Virgil’s heart couldn’t help but do ridiculous jumps whenever he was around. Though he’d become more reserved lately, Virgil certainly enjoyed his company.

And he knew Dee enjoyed his, too. That small moment they’d almost shared on the bench in the training grounds hadn’t been his imagination, he was sure of it. 

He was certain. 

They could never pursue these feelings, of course. No matter what either of them felt, Dee was married to Roman, and Virgil refused to do anything with a married man, no matter how strong his feelings were. Even if Dee returned them. 

A pained cry caught his attention, and Virgil broke into a run towards the sound, eyes widening when he recognised the voice. Dee! Oh God, what had happened? Was Dee okay? What had-

He threw open the door to Roman’s and Dee’s chambers and froze in horror at the sight before him.

“Roman,” he breathed, taking in the sight of the Prince holding his beaten, bloodied husband by the hair. “What the Hell are you doing?”

Roman stared at him for a long moment, before throwing Dee to the ground, kicking him away. Dee’s cry of pain rang through his ears as he surged forward, roaring, only to find himself at the end of Roman’s sword.

He went stock still, his eyes boring into Roman. “Put down your sword, Prince,” he growled. 

“Are you going to make me with your one functioning arm, Captain?” Roman taunted, and Virgil realised that even if he had his sword with him, he couldn’t fight Roman off right-handed. 

“Roman, what the Hell has gotten into you?” He demanded, his voice snarling as he struggled to maintain eye contact with Roman, though his eyes darted down to look at Dee for just a brief moment. “Tell me why you’re beating your husband!”

Roman growled. “Because he’s a traitorous little whore,” he snarled, and Virgil looked down again as Dee struggled to scoot backwards, making small, hurt noises as he did. When he returned his gaze to Roman, the Prince’s eyes were narrowed.

“And so are you,” he said darkly. Virgil, for once, found he couldn’t speak, and his heart hammered behind his chest as Roman stepped back. “I order you to stand still,” he demanded, and Virgil watched as he stepped over to Dee, grabbing by the hair again and yanking him to his feet. Dee whimpered, cowering as Roman began to rip off his clothes. Virgil stepped forward.

“Roman, what the fuck are you-”

“Stay still!” Roman barked. “That is an order! Interfere, and I’ll break your other arm. Understand!?” 

A deep horror chilled him to his core. “I understand,” he said through gritted teeth, and his hands began to shake as Roman finished stripping Dee down and threw him onto the bed. 

“No! Roman, please! Not in front of- ROMAN PLEASE!” Dee pleaded to his husband, and Virgil couldn’t even breathe as Roman removed his own pants and held Dee down. 

“Your Highness, don’t do this,” Virgil begged, but his words went unacknowledged as Roman flipped his husband onto his stomach, forced his legs apart, and thrust in brutally. 

Dee’s scream echoed through the chambers, and Virgil’s fist clenched tightly at his side, his fingernails digging into the meat of his palm so hard that they drew blood. He turned his head to the side. He couldn’t watch this. 

“Don’t you dare look away!” Roman shouted, and Virgil’s head snapped back like he’d been hit. “You are going to watch.”

He had to.

Satisfied that Virgil was obeying, Roman started moving again, his hips snapping into Dee hard and fast. Tears slipped down Virgil’s cheeks as Dee pressed his face into the mattress, trying to muffle his own screams, and something in Virgil broke. 

He began to cry in earnest, though he made no sound beyond the shaky breaths he struggled to draw. Every second of this he was forced to watch was another second Dee was in pain, and he couldn’t even describe the unbridled rage and horror he felt for his friend.

Before long, his tears blurred his vision completely, and he could no longer see what was happening, but he counted that as a blessing as he stared unseeingly into the horror before him. He couldn’t block his ears, though, much as he wished to God above that he could, so he heard everything. Every muffled scream, whimper and groan that Dee emitted rang through his ears, haunting him even as the sound of everything else threatened to drown it out. 

“Enjoying the show, Captain?” Roman taunted, his voice gravelly as he continued to pound into Dee. 

Virgil exhaled shakily, blinking the tears away and looking the Prince in the eye. “You disgust me,” he spat. 

Roman didn’t respond. Not too long after, he grunted, and stilled, digging his nails into Dee’s hips for a few long moments before slowly pulling out, letting Dee collapse against the bed. He pulled his pants back on, and traced his fingers down Dee’s back for a few seconds, before turning to face Virgil. 

Virgil didn’t dare move as Roman stalked over to him, his eyes burning. He stopped barely an inch from Virgil. “Who does Dolion belong to?” He asked darkly. 

Virgil swallowed. Dee didn’t belong to anyone! He was a person! Not an object!”

“Do not make me repeat myself, Captain,” Roman growled in warning. “Or I’ll have to repeat my demonstration, as well.”

“He belongs to you, Your Highness.” The words burned him like acid as he said them, and he wished he could take them back as he heard the small whimper Dee gave. 

“I’m glad you agree,” Roman said, his voice eerily calm. “I trust you are intelligent enough not to do anything that might warrant a repeat of this lesson, Captain?”

“That will not be necessary,” Virgil responded shakily, keeping his eyes locked with Roman’s.

“Excellent,” the Prince purred, stepping over to his door and opening it. “You are dismissed.” 

Virgil’s breath caught in his throat, and he dared to glance at Dee’s broken, trembling form for a brief second before striding out. 

“Oh! And, Virgil, my friend,” Roman called out as Virgil made to leave. He turned slightly, looking at Roman over his shoulder. “You will speak of this to no one. That is an order.”

Virgil turned away from him, every part of him shaking as he spoke. “Understood, Your Highness.” 

Roman huffed a breath, and the sound of the door slamming behind him echoed through the hall.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Rape mention, injury, broken bone mention, unsympathetic Roman, nightmare mention

Virgil trembled from head to toe as he sped through the castle, walking as quickly as his legs would carry him without breaking into a run. He’d managed to wipe his face clear of the tears he’d shed, but he couldn’t breathe. His breaths were coming in short, sharp gasps, and no matter how many breathing techniques he tried, he couldn’t calm himself down. The horror he’d just witnessed was burned into his mind, and it replayed, over and over again, taunting and tormenting him as he made his way to the King’s personal chambers. 

“Oh! And, Virgil, my friend. You will speak of this to no one. That is an order.”

Orders be damned, he couldn’t let Roman get away with this.

What Roman had done… never in Virgil’s worst nightmares could he have imagined that the Prince would be capable of such a thing. Would commit such a heinous act upon anyone, let alone Dee, the man he’d sworn to love and protect… 

He didn’t know or understand what had led Roman to beat his husband, to - Virgil could barely stomach the word - to rape him, but Virgil’s understanding didn’t matter. Roman had done something awful, and Virgil refused to let him get away with it. Nobody deserved what Roman had just put Dee through. 

God above… Virgil couldn’t even begin to imagine the pain Dee must be feeling right now...the humiliation…

How could Roman have done this?

His surroundings all blurred together as he moved, and he stumbled but didn’t fall. Dee’s screams echoed in his head, and no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t block them out. They were so distracting that Virgil almost careened into the wall, but he managed to shove himself off it with his good hand before he hurt himself. He hissed as his palm scraped along the stone. A nearby guard must have heard him, and stepped over to help, concerned, but Virgil waved them off, continuing on his way. He had to get to Patton.

It took him far too long to reach the King’s chambers, and when he did he stood outside the door for a few moments to regain his breath. He made sure his eyes and cheeks were cleared of the tears he’d shed, then knocked on the door hastily, hitting the wood so hard his knuckles ached. “Your Majesty?” He called, his voice quivering slightly. “I need to speak with you! It’s urgent!”

He heard some scuffling, and then a few moments later, Patton opened the door. “Captain? What’s the - oh my goodness! Virgil, are you alright?” The King asked upon seeing Virgil’s tearstained face. 

“Your Majesty, I need to speak with you in private,” Virgil implored. 

“Of course. Come in,” Patton stepped back, opening the door wider to let Virgil inside. He stepped over the threshold. 

Patton’s chambers were rather colourful, even more so than one would expect. He often commissioned artists to make beautiful paintings and tapestries and would hang them on his walls so that he could admire them. Virgil’s eyes caught on a rather magnificent painting of Prince Roman, and he felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He tore his eyes away, turning to face Patton. 

“You may want to sit down, Your Majesty,” he said gravely, swallowing. 

“What’s going on, Virgil?” The King asked, taking a seat at his desk and looking up at Virgil, concern pinching at his soft features. Virgil’s heart twisted. How was he supposed to explain to Patton the awful things his beloved son had done…?

“Virgil, please, whatever it is, just say it,” Patton beseeched, and Virgil nodded, drawing in a slow breath.

“Roman is abusing Dee.”

There was a moment where neither of them said anything, and Virgil watched as the words sunk in, could see the exact second where the King processed what Virgil had said. 

Could see the precise moment where Patton chose not to believe him.

His throat closed over as Patton shook his head in disbelief, his hope crushed. “Virgil, that’s - I don’t know why you would say something so awful. Roman is not - my son would never do that!”

“That’s what I thought too, but-”

“No ‘buts’, Captain. Wherever you heard this rumour, I can assure you right now that it’s nothing more than that - a rumour,” Patton maintained. 

“But Your Majesty, it isn’t just-” 

“I said no ‘buts’, Virgil!” 

“Your Majesty please liste-”

“ENOUGH!” Patton’s shout startled Virgil into silence, and he took a step back, his lips pressed firmly closed. “Virgil, I refuse to believe such- such codswallop. Roman is not the kind of man who would do that, and shame on you to even entertain the idea that he would!”

Virgil’s mouth opened, then closed again. Patton wasn’t going to believe his word alone. That was clear. His hands trembled with frustration. He wasn’t good with words, or convincing people. Didn’t know how to utilise fancy language to persuade people like Logan did. He was good with his sword, he was good on the battlefield, but when it came to politics, he was as lost as a coin in the river. 

Feeling crushed by the King’s refusal to listen to him, he bit his tongue to keep himself from saying anything stupid, knowing that anything else he had to say would just make Patton angry, and even less likely to believe him.

He stood there, eyes fixed firmly on the clasp of Patton’s cloak. Several moments of silence passed between them, and when Virgil made no move to speak, Patton gave a sharp exhale. “I won’t tell Roman, or anyone else about what you said today,” he said tightly. “And I won’t hear of it again.” The order was clear.

“...yes, Your Majesty,” Virgil said, despondent. Disobeying an order from the Prince was bad enough, but an order from the King? Even Virgil couldn’t cross that line...

“You are dismissed, Captain.” 

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” He gave a quick bow, then stepped out. 

He flinched as Patton slammed the door behind him, and quickly made his way to his own chambers, just barely managing to hold himself together. Once he’d closed and bolted shut his door behind him, he drew in a slow breath. 

In… and out… in… and out…

He spent a while trying to focus on the breathing exercises Logan had taught him, making an effort to properly calm himself down. He wasn’t sure exactly how long it took, but by the time he was able to draw in steady, even breaths, the sun had well begun its descent under the horizon, and the sky outside his window was filled with deep reds, oranges and pinks. It was admittedly rather beautiful, if not a little haunting…

He sighed, reaching to grab a canteen of water to hydrate himself and wincing when the canteen rubbed against a graze on his palm. He groaned softly and trudged to the bath chambers to wash it, running some water over it and scrubbing away the dried blood and dust from the stone wall. 

Ah, Virgil had forgotten that he’d scraped himself when he pushed away from the wall earlier. 

He dried his hand and returned to his bedroom, sitting down on top of the blankets and staring at the graze. It stung a little, nothing compared to the pain in his arm, though. He’d been lucky - if he hadn’t pushed himself off in time, his broken arm would’ve slammed straight into the stone. He definitely would’ve made a lot more noise for the guards in that case than the small hiss he’d given them.

His eyes narrowed suddenly.

The guard had heard his hiss from around the corner of another corridor and come to investigate… the noise he’d made had been quiet, and yet the guard still heard it. 

Virgil had heard Dee’s pained cries from a much further distance, and yet… 

None of the guards had come to investigate.

...why? 

He shot to his feet abruptly, stalking out of his bedchambers and back towards the Princes’. Virgil didn’t believe for a single moment that those guards hadn’t heard what was happening to Dee, not with how well trained they were. No. If they hadn’t come to investigate screaming that loud and drawn out, then there had to be a reason. What could stop Royal Guards from investigating such an obvious disturbance?

“Oh! And, Virgil, my friend. You will speak of this to no one. That is an order.”

Roman.

Roman had ordered the guards not to investigate. 

He growled lowly under his breath at the thought, his fist clenching. A cacophony of emotions swept through him - rage, hatred, horror, fear, and a dozen others he couldn’t name. He didn’t know what he intended to do when he saw Roman again, but God, he wanted nothing more than to slam his fist into the Prince’s face. 

He walked faster, exhausted but letting his adrenaline keep him moving. If he couldn’t do anything about Roman, then maybe he could knock some sense into the damned guards-

Just as he was about to round the corner where the guards were stationed, he stopped. 

Painfully slowly, his gaze lowered to his broken arm, secured firmly against his torso. Just the power-walk here had jostled it enough to make the pain almost intolerable without crying out. If he tried to engage in a fight…

Virgil wanted to scream. Without his dominant arm, he was practically helpless! In a life or death situation he could probably hold his own, but otherwise… and against multiple opponents - likely including Roman if he caught wind of what was going on - Virgil didn’t stand a chance. 

God damn that Prince! There was no way this hadn’t been planned! Roman had broken his arm intentionally! That little prick! 

Virgil could barely contain his anger. Before he could do something he regretted he spun on his heel, stalking back to his chambers. He’d be beyond foolish to try and start a fight in the condition he was in, let alone to believe he would have any chance of winning it. 

For the time being, he was powerless. Useless.

But he wasn’t giving up. There was nothing he could do now after the sun had set and the palace was preparing to sleep, but tomorrow…

Tomorrow he would find out the names of all the guards stationed around Roman’s chambers. He would visit each one when they were off rotation, talk to them privately. Find out what the Hell was going on. Maybe there was more to it than just simple orders. It was entirely possible Roman was bribing them, whether it be with money, or something else. Either way, Virgil was going to do his damndest to best whatever offer Roman had made them. The King might not believe his word alone, but…

If he had the guards on his side, if more than just he were willing to testify to what Roman had been doing… 

Maybe Virgil stood a chance after all. 

It was well and truly dark by the time Virgil made it to his bed, and he curled up under the weight of the blankets, exhausted. He couldn’t bring to mind a time where he’d ever been this disturbed, this distraught. His heart felt like it had been shattered, the betrayal of Roman’s character cutting deep into his soul. In the years he’d spent at Roman’s side, training with him, teaching him, Hell, bonding with him, he’d never imagined that the Prince could be capable of such cruelty…

And Dee…

The smaller Prince had looked so terrified, so hurt… his body had been littered with so many bruises, and Virgil began to wonder how long Roman had been beating him for him to acquire that many injuries…

Virgil’s eyes began to water at the thought, and he blinked the tears away, a shiver running down his spine as they fell. In all his years as a knight, as the Captain of the Guard, Virgil didn’t think he’d ever been in as much pain as Dee looked to be in. 

And Virgil had been in a lot of pain. 

Virgil fell asleep a while later, tossing and turning for a while before falling into a deeper state of unconsciousness. Before he woke the next morning, he would be plagued by nightmares that would jolt him awake, crying and with a scream trapped in his throat. 

But for now, Virgil slept. 

For tomorrow, he would act.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Injuries, broken bones, domestic abuse, unsympathetic Roman, abusive Roman, gaslighting, suicidal ideation, touch starved Deceit, isolation

Dee stared at the wall as the healer examined his body, trying not to wince as she patched up his wounds. Much like the woman who’d painted his face on several occasions now, she was silent as she worked, and Dee couldn’t help but feel unsettled by her composure. How many wounds like this had she treated that she was completely indifferent to it…?

It took a while for her to treat and stitch up all the cuts, then she moved on the bandaging, and then after that, she inspected his ribs. She started poking them gently, moving down his ribcage, and he yelped when a jolt of pain when she poked one of his lower ribs. He had to bite his lip hard while she proceeded to play around with it. 

“Definitely broken,” she mumbled to herself, and he exhaled shakily. Roman rolled his eyes from across the room. “You’ll need to avoid any strenuous activity if you want this to heal properly, Your Highness,” she said. “My advice is a few weeks of bed rest.” 

Dee just nodded, looking down at the floor. 

She sighed, moving on to his injured right knee. It was badly inflamed, and the area was patterned with a sickening mess of black, purple and yellow. She did a few exercises, moving his leg back and forth and bending the knee, and Dee had to bite down on his hand to muffle his scream. She pressed her lips together.

“This needs to be iced,” she said. “I’ll fetch a pack for you. Until then…” She pulled out a roll of bandages and wrapped up his knee. “This will help.” She got to her feet, and sighed, looking at Roman. “He needs a lot of rest, Your Highness,” she said to him. “His other injuries aside, his knee has been very badly damaged. It will take a while to heal, and even then, I do not think it will ever do so fully.”

Dee’s breath caught, and his eyes welled with tears. His fingers curled into the blankets, and he tried not to hate Roman for what he’d done. Tried not to loathe his husband. 

Though more than anything, Dee was just scared…

He knew he shouldn’t, but Dee could almost forgive Roman for beating him around. He’d been a bad husband, after all...he’d deserved it… but he couldn’t forgive him for this… For what he’d done in front of Virgil.

Dee felt so humiliated at what Virgil had been forced to witness. He wanted to curl up somewhere cramped and hide from the world forever, wanted to rip his skin off, wanted to throw himself out the window-

Dee cut those thoughts off, swallowing thickly. He couldn’t think that...shouldn’t… He focused instead on the burning ache between his legs, on the agonising pain in his knee. On how much it hurt to take even the shallowest of breaths. He wanted the pain to go away so badly, but at least if he was focussing on that he wasn’t thinking about how much he hated what his life had become. 

He barely even noticed as the healer left, muttering something about having to get ice in this weather. The door shut behind her and Roman stepped over to him, ignoring Dee’s flinch as he cupped Dee’s chin in his palm, tilting his head upwards. A shiver ran down his spine as Roman’s thumb brushed over his cheek.

“Who’s fault is this?” He asked, his voice deceptively soft. Dee could almost pretend Roman still loved him - if he ever had at all.

“...mine,” he murmured, averting his eyes. Though the voice in his head screamed at him that it was Roman’s fault, that Roman was the one who had done this to him, the smarter part of him just went along with what Roman wanted to hear, knowing he’d just be hurt again if he tried to defend himself. 

“That’s right,” Roman said, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to Dee’s lips. “This is your fault. If you had just been a loyal husband, I wouldn’t have had to hurt you like this.” 

“I know…” Dee whispered, his eyes welling with tears again. “I’m sorry…” 

“I’d like to forgive you,” Roman said softly, and Dee could practically taste the lie. “But I just can’t. You betrayed me, Dolion.”

“I know,” he repeated quietly, hating himself. “I won’t betray you again… I- I’m yours…” 

“There’s a good husband,” Roman cooed softly, brushing a hand through Dee’s hair. His eyes fluttered closed at the gentle touch, craving it like he craved oxygen, but it didn’t last long. Roman’s grip soon tightened, and Dee gave a small whimper at the pull against his scalp. “You better not betray me again,” he said, his voice firm. “Or I will do much, much worse. Understand?”

“I-I understand,” Dee squeaked, beginning to tremble. “I- I won’t - I promise!” 

“Good.” His grip on Dee’s hair went slack, and he began carding through it again like nothing had happened. Dee breathed shakily, closing his eyes again. He just had to be good...if he was good, Roman wouldn’t hurt him… just had to be good…

After a minute or so, Roman stepped back, and Dee opened his eyes. “Well, you may be bedridden, but I still have places to be,” he said. “There will be guards stationed outside my door. Nobody but myself or the healer gets in or out of here. You will stay in bed and rest for the day. Got it?”

“Got it…” Dee murmured, looking down. 

“Excellent. I’ll see you this evening, my love.” Dee perked up a little at the nickname, watching as Roman left. Maybe...maybe Roman did still hold some small amount of affection in his heart for Dee, after all…

Don’t be stupid. If he did, he wouldn’t have hurt you like this. 

Dee flinched at the thought but didn’t try to deny it. He knew it was right… 

He laid down on his back, making a small, pained noise as he shifted. Another spark of agony pulsed in his knee and even more tears rolled down his cheeks at the pain. God, why did everything have to hurt so much…?

He drew in a shallow breath, glancing around at the empty room. Well, empty save for himself. It was quiet, almost deafeningly so, and Dee almost wished that Roman had stayed with him. At least then he wouldn’t be alone. Would have someone to listen to, even if it was just to his breathing. 

The healer came back in to ice his knee, but she wasn’t exactly much in the way of company. She didn’t speak unless it was to ask him about his injuries, and she did not stay any longer than necessary to treat them. 

The loneliness felt suffocating, and he spent the day counting cracks in the wall, his knee too painful to even get up to grab a book to read. He managed to make it to the bath chambers when he really needed it, but every second of that was agonising, and Dee couldn’t bring himself to make it go on even a second longer to get a book from the shelves. 

So he stayed in bed. 

Alone. 

Days passed like that. Then the days turned into weeks. The weeks into a month. Dee didn’t get to see anyone other than Roman and the healer. No one was permitted to enter, and Dee wasn’t permitted to leave, even when he could stand and walk - though he needed the help of a walking cane. At least now he could get to the bookshelves. At first, that was wonderful, and he didn’t feel quite so miserable, able to immerse himself in the tales of others, real or otherwise.

It wasn’t enough. Not for long. 

He missed seeing people. He missed seeing Virgil. But he could never admit to that. 

Time began to move slowly again, after a while, causing minutes to feel like hours, days to feel like weeks. He would lay in bed, clutching a book to his chest, crying for no particular reason. He would stare at the pages for hours and not take in a single word. He would close his eyes for a moment in the morning, and wake up to Roman crawling into bed that night. 

He was miserable. He was lonely. 

Roman didn’t care. 

He pleaded with him, just once, to let someone, anyone, visit Dee while he was gone. His answer was a slap across the face. 

He found himself staring out the window, after that, looking down at the drop between the windowsill and the ground. It was a lot. If he jumped from the window, he’d certainly die. 

He thought about that a lot. 

He would run his hands over the windowsill, thinking about how it would be painful to step on. He would look up and think about how he could grip the sides of the sill, pull himself up. He could stand on the edge and gaze down at the world below him. He would listen to the birds chirping in the trees below. Think about how he wouldn’t mind if they were the last sounds he ever heard. 

Then he would step back, and limp back to bed, curling up and hugging himself under the blankets. He would cry again. Would wish he had the courage to actually do it - to jump from that window and free himself forever. But he was too scared. 

Always too scared.

Sometimes he’d sit down by the door, and listen to the guards on the other side. They never spoke to him, and he wasn’t brave enough to try and initiate a conversation with them, but sometimes they would talk to each other, their voices quiet so he couldn’t hear them. He heard them nonetheless, but only if he was close. He couldn’t always quite make out what they were saying, but it was nice to just hear people’s voices again, even if he didn’t know who they belonged to.

He felt bad for listening in on their conversations, though. He shouldn’t be listening in on their conversations when they weren’t intended for his ears. But he was so lonely...he couldn’t help but creep closer every time he heard them begin to chatter. Couldn’t help but wait by the door even when they were silent, in hopes that they might begin to talk. 

God...he was pathetic. 

But he knew that already.

Roman often liked to tell him how pathetic he was. Whether it was while he cried after being hit, or when he curled into Roman every time he offered some scrap of gentleness. In those times, he’d say it almost playfully, but Dee could still hear the disgust behind Roman’s words. Even when he pretended to love Dee, the smaller Prince knew it was all a lie. 

Even though he knew it was all a lie, he still longed for Roman to hold him, to kiss him, to play with his hair and rub his back. Even when he murmured cruel words and sickeningly sweet taunts, Dee yearned for more. Even when the touch burned, he still craved it. 

On the nights where Roman didn’t hold him to his chest, his grip far too tight, Dee would wait for him to fall asleep, then shuffle closer, curling up beside him and pressing as close as he could physically get, desperate for the contact. He’d become so pitiful, but he didn’t care anymore. He spent so long cooped up on his own during the day, he would take everything he could get at night. 

And he knew that Roman knew it.

He knew in the way that Roman would offer his soft touches, only to pull away just when Dee thought he might finally feel okay. It hurt - God, it hurt, every time he lost the touch, and Dee would always inch forward, trying to get it back. Roman would scoff, and walk away, leaving Dee alone and trembling. 

And still...Dee always came back for more.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Injury mention, unsympathetic Roman, gaslighting, touch starved Deceit, isolation

“You’re so lifeless, lately,” Roman complained quietly as he played with Dee’s hair. Dee made a small noise in his throat, but otherwise didn’t react, too relaxed by the feeling of Roman’s fingers running through his hair to formulate any kind of response. They were on the bed, Dee cuddled up to Roman as his husband sat against the headboard. It was one of the rare occasions that Roman actually took the time to pay attention to Dee, and Dee was milking it for everything he could get. 

“I suppose that is to be expected,” Roman mused, “You’ve been cooped up for, what is it? Almost three months, now?”

Dee nodded slightly, somewhat glad to finally know exactly how long it had been. Three months… He’d been isolated for three months… 

“Your injuries have healed up alright,” Roman continued, “And your knee is… well, you can walk on it now, at least.” He could walk on it, now. Though he did have a noticeable limp if he wasn’t concentrating on hiding it. 

Another few minutes passed in silence, and Dee almost dozed off, soothed by the feeling of Roman’s hand in his hair. “You’re very pale,” Roman said suddenly, jerking Dee awake. “And your hair has gone dull… I should fetch the healer. You might be sick.” 

Dee didn’t feel sick, but he didn’t see the point in arguing. Roman had made up his mind. He whined as Roman got to his feet, missing the touch as soon as it was gone, and Roman rolled his eyes. “Stop being so needy,” he said, and Dee’s shoulders curled forward as he dropped his gaze. 

“Sorry…” He murmured. 

Roman waved a dismissive hand, and left, returning half an hour later with the same healer that had tended to all Dee’s injuries. He got to his feet, keeping most of his weight on his good leg.

She frowned at his state, examining him closely. “He’s not sick,” she said eventually, frowning further in thought. “When was the last time he went outside, Your Highness?” She asked Roman, as if Dee wasn’t even there. His fists clenched in frustration, but he didn’t speak up. That would be rude, after all. 

“He’s been in here since you first saw him,” Roman said, tilting his head. “He hasn’t been outside.” 

She clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “There’s your problem - humans need sunlight, Your Highness. He looks sickly because he hasn’t been getting any. Take him outside. Regularly. He’ll be healthier for it.” 

She talks like I’m his pet dog, Dee thought miserably. 

“Alright. Thank you for your help,” Roman said, showing her out. 

“It was my pleasure, Your Highness.” She gave a curt bow before going on her way, and Roman returned to Dee, who’d sat back down on the bed. 

“Well then, I suppose your bedrest has officially ended,” Roman said. “Let’s go for a walk.”

Dee allowed a hopeful smile on his face. “Really?” He breathed. “I can- I can go out?” 

Roman nodded. “As long as you’re in my company, then yes,” he allowed. 

“Thank you!” Dee cried, jumping up and hugging Roman tightly. Roman chuckled ruffling Dee’s hair lightly. 

“Where would you like to go?” He asked. 

“...could we go to the gardens?” 

“I don’t see why not,” Roman responded, stepping back. “But you should get dressed, first. I won’t have my husband wandering about in his bedclothes.” 

Dee flushed, and nodded, limping over to his wardrobe and pulling out a clean tunic and pants, as well as a jacket in case he got cold. He stripped quickly, not overly fond of seeing himself without clothing, and did his best to ignore Roman’s eyes on his body. Dressing himself was a little slower, especially with how careful he had to be pulling on his pants so he didn’t jostle his knee too much. Once he was fully dressed, he exhaled, and stepped back over to Roman, ready to go.

Roman slipped his hand in Dee’s, and Dee’s heart raced excitedly as they stepped out into the corridor. It wasn’t anything interesting, but it was the first time Dee had seen anything other than his own chambers in months! He smiled brightly, letting his eyes scan over everything in sight. It was so nice to see something different…

Between their chambers and the garden, Dee was met with many congratulatory remarks from those they passed, commending him for recovering from his ‘illness’. 

Ah. So that’s what Roman told them. That I was ill.

He supposed he looked the part, at least.

He did his best not to limp as they walked, though he couldn’t hide it completely. Nobody commented on that, though, so at least if Roman was going to get mad at him again, it couldn’t be for that…

Dee almost cried when they finally reached the gardens, his eyes assaulted with so many bright, beautiful colours that he was nearly overwhelmed by it all. The beauty of the garden was such a stark contrast to the colours in their bedchambers - which were rather colourful, but felt incredibly dull when it was all you had to look at for three months. Dee felt the breath rush from him at the sight.

“They’re beautiful, right?” Roman said, leading Dee through the pebbled path into the orchard. 

“Truly...it’s gorgeous,” Dee whispered in awe. Roman chuckled and led him further in. 

They strolled through the orchard, first, and Dee was amazed by how many different kinds of fruit trees they had. There were apricot trees, apple trees, lemon trees, even mango trees! Roman even allowed Dee to pick one of the ripe apples, and he ate it slowly as they walked. Soon enough his knee began to ache, but he ignored it. He was finally allowed outside! He didn’t want to waste time thinking about the pain. 

Past the orchard, there were flowerbeds, containing a colourful variety of flowers that made Dee’s breath catch. Beyond that, there were rose bushes with roses of every colour, and Dee picked a yellow rose, offering it up to Roman with a shy smile. 

Roman’s eyes rolled, but he was smiling. For a moment, Dee thought Roman was going to refuse the rose, but after a second, he took it, tucking the stem into his breast pocket. Dee felt his cheeks warm up as he smiled.

“Come. Let’s continue onwards,” Roman said, tugging Dee further along the path. They walked until Dee’s knee was screaming at him, and his limp became more and more noticeable with each step he took. Roman sighed. “There’s a bench not much further. You can rest there.” 

“Thank you,” Dee managed, wheezing quietly from the effort of walking for so long. It hadn’t even been half an hour, but after not exercising at all for so long, Dee was far too unfit. 

As soon as they reached the bench, Dee dropped down onto it, panting for breath. His knee was intensely painful, and when Roman sat down beside him, Dee leaned on him, resting his head on his husband’s shoulder. He heard Roman give a sigh, but he didn’t push him away, so Dee didn’t move. 

He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling tired. 

“Clearly, you need more exercise,” Roman teased, and Dee nodded his agreement. Roman wrapped an arm around Dee’s waist, shifting them slightly. Dee exhaled softly as he felt Roman’s lips at his neck, and held still as Roman kissed down to his collarbone. It didn’t progress any further than that, thankfully, but by the time Roman stopped, he’d hardened in his pants, and Dee knew that his night was going to be long. But he tried not to dwell on that. 

At least Roman would be touching him. 

They sat on the bench for a while, and when Dee finally opened his eyes again, he noticed the small pond nearby, smiling softly at the duck and her three ducklings floating on the water. “Aww...look,” he pointed to the ducks, smiling up at Roman. 

“Yes, I did notice them. Beautiful, aren’t they?” 

Dee nodded, resting his head on Roman’s shoulder again as he watched them. He felt so happy...happier than he’d felt in a long, long time. Sitting here, outside, in the gardens, watching the ducks with Roman… he didn’t want this moment to end. He wanted time to stop, right here, so that Dee could live out this moment forever. 

Unfortunately, time did not bow to the whims of man, and continued on the same way it always did, indifferent. Roman eventually grew bored of sitting there and got to his feet. “We ought to be heading back,” he said, “I can’t neglect my responsibilities forever.” 

Dee’s smile fell, and he nodded, disappointed. He’d hoped for a bit more time out in the sun…

“We’ll come back tomorrow,” Roman assured him, taking his hand again and tugging Dee along with him as he headed back to the palace. “The healer said you need to go outside every day, so that is what we’ll do. However, I cannot devote every moment of my time to you.”

Dee nodded. “I know. I’m sorry,” he murmured, feeling bad for making Roman feel the need to explain himself. 

“You’re forgiven,” Roman said.

Dee felt like crying once they were back in the familiarity of their chambers, his mood immediately dropping the moment he stepped through the door. He wanted so badly to go back outside, but he didn’t dare ask Roman for more time today, not wanting to make his husband angry after they’d had such a good day. Perhaps tomorrow…

Roman gave him a soft kiss goodbye before he left, and Dee sat down on one of the couches, brushing his fingertips over his lips. Roman had been in a rather good mood for a while now… hadn’t hit Dee much over the past fortnight. Hadn’t so much as threatened him today. Maybe Dee was finally doing something right for once…

A small smile tugged at his lips at the thought. Maybe he was doing better. Roman certainly seemed to be happier with him as of late. Maybe it was because Dee had stopped trying to resist him when he didn’t want sex...maybe it was because Dee was quieter. Maybe it was because Dee was trying harder to please him. Whether it was one, or a combination of the three, Dee decided to keep doing what he was doing, wanting to keep Roman happy. He liked Roman when he was happy. 

Roman didn’t hurt him when he was happy. 

Roman took him out into the gardens the next day, and the day after that, and slowly, Dee found his spirits lifting. Each day he woke up looking forward to their walk in the garden, and he actually managed to pull himself out of bed without Roman having to tell him to get up. As the week passed, he even found himself getting a little fitter, feeling slightly less exhausted at the end of each walk, though the pain in his knee persisted throughout, and Dee suspected that it would never go away.

That was one thing he still couldn’t let go.

As much as Roman had been gentle with him, lately, and as much as Dee craved his touch, he still couldn’t forget what had led them both to this. Memories of that day still tormented him, and every step he took was a reminder of what Roman had done to him. Though the cuts had healed and the bruises had faded, his knee was never going to be the same. 

According to the healer, Dee’s kneecap had shattered, and though it had healed as best as it could, an injury like that never healed fully. 

He did his best to ignore it, though, even when sometimes it felt impossible to do so. He was enjoying being allowed outside again and didn’t want to risk Roman changing his mind and confining him to their rooms again. For that reason, he never once complained about the pain he felt, except to quietly request they take a break from walking, which Roman never seemed to particularly mind. 

It was good. 

Everything was…

Good.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: abuse mention, unsympathetic Roman

Dee panted softly as Roman dropped down beside him, his arm curling under Dee and pulling him close. Dee made a soft sound, resting his forehead against Roman’s chest despite the sweat that clung to both their skin. He closed his eyes as Roman pressed a kiss to the top of his head, and shivered as he felt Roman’s fingers gliding up and down his back. 

Things had been better since Dee had stopped fighting him. Much better. Roman was so much gentler with him, now, and Dee kept on his best behaviour to keep it that way. 

His husband hummed softly, and Dee made a small noise in his throat in response, tangling his good leg in Roman’s as he pressed closer. It was early in the morning, the sun just beginning to shine some light into their bedroom. Dee had woken up in the half-dark to Roman pressing kisses down his chest and with a hand between his legs, and now he just wanted to go back to sleep. He knew he wouldn’t be able to, though, so he resigned himself to the early start. 

“What are you doing today?” He asked Roman, his voice barely above a murmur.

“Why do you ask?” Roman responded, his fingers brushing over Dee’s hip. 

“Merely curious,” Dee lied, then sighed softly. “I was...hoping we could stay out in the gardens a little longer today…” He admitted quietly. 

“Not today,” Roman said, and Dee deflated. “I have a lot of work to be done today. You’re going to have to miss out.” 

“...oh,” Dee curled up a little more. Stupid! He shouldn’t have been greedy and asked for more time. Now he couldn’t go at all!

Roman said he has a lot of work to do today. It isn’t just because you asked, the voice in his head protested, but Dee still couldn’t help but feel like it was his fault for asking. He shouldn’t keep asking for things. He already had everything he needed…

He felt Roman draw in a deep breath, then exhale. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt if I sent a guard out with you in my absence, just this once,” he said, and Dee looked up, hope shining in his eyes. “The healer did say you need to go outside every day, after all.” 

“Thank you,” Dee whispered, hugging Roman tightly. Roman made a noise in the back of his throat in response, and Dee went quiet. They laid together like that for a while, neither one of them speaking as they enjoyed each other’s company. 

Well.

Dee enjoyed Roman’s company. He was aware at this point that Roman enjoyed Dee’s body more than anything else about him, but… he tried not to think about that.

Eventually, Roman had to get up, though Dee stayed huddled up in the blankets where it was warm. “I’ll send a guard to come and collect you in a few hours,” Roman informed him as he dressed. “You may stay in the gardens as long as you wish, as long as you are back in our chambers before I return in the evening.”

“Thank you, Roman,” Dee said softly. “I...I truly appreciate it.”

“Yes, well, I trust that by now, you know better than to abuse the freedoms I grant you.” 

Dee nodded.

“Good. I will see you this evening.” Roman left without another word, and Dee stayed in bed for a while longer before getting up and dressing himself. He spent the time waiting for the guard reading by the window - a fictional piece about the love story between an assassin and a mythical creature called the Fae. He read for hours, completely enraptured by the story until a knock sounded at his door. 

“Prince Dolion?” An unfamiliar voice called from the other side. “I was sent by your husband to escort you to the gardens, Your Highness.” 

Dee smiled, and marked his page, setting the book down and limping over to the door. He opened it and was met with the face of a guard he’d never seen before. “Hello,” he greeted politely, his voice quiet. 

“Greetings, Your Highness,” the guard said, bowing low. “I’ve come to escort you.” 

“Thank you,” Dee said, stepping out and shutting the door to his chambers. “I appreciate it.” 

“You are most welcome, Your Highness.” 

Dee smiled, setting off towards the gardens with the guard in tow. “Please,” he requested, “Just call me Dee.” 

The guard looked uncomfortable with the request. “It- it would not be proper for me to address you with anything other than your title,” he explained. 

Dee sighed softly. “It’s fine. Do not concern yourself with it.” 

“...thank you, Your Highness.” 

They walked in an awkward silence the rest of the way to the gardens, and Dee was very much relieved when they finally arrived. The beauty of the gardens seemed to wash away any uncomfortable feelings Dee felt, and as they strolled leisurely along the path, the smile returned to his face. 

“What’s your name?” He asked the guard as they stopped beneath the shade of one of the fruit trees so Dee could rest his knee.

“Jericho, Your Highness.” 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jericho.” 

“The pleasure is all mine, Your Highness.” 

Dee didn’t ask Jericho any more questions that day, but it was nice to at least know his name. 

When Roman returned to their chambers that night, Dee was already in bed, tired but not quite asleep. He’d returned from the gardens just before sunset, and was surprised to find that Roman wasn’t back already. Which was good. Dee was supposed to be back before him, but he’d stayed in the garden’s longer than he should have, and it had taken longer than he’d expected to walk back with his aching knee. 

Nevertheless, Roman had been back later than he’d expected, which had worked out good for Dee.

“How was your day, my love?” Dee asked him when Roman climbed into bed.

“It was dull,” Roman said unenthusiastically. “Meetings, meetings, meetings, all day! I was so unimaginably bored!” 

“That is...unfortunate,” Dee murmured, snuggling closer to him. He’d had a very good day in the gardens, but decided to keep that to himself until Roman asked so it didn’t seem like he was rubbing it in. Roman didn’t ask.

They didn’t speak again that night, and Roman fell asleep fairly quickly. Dee remained awake for a while, curled up against Roman’s chest while he tried to ignore the throbbing in his knee. He did eventually fall asleep, though he woke up several times during the night, and by the time he woke the next morning, he didn’t feel particularly well-rested. 

Once Roman woke up, Dee got out of bed and got dressed, eager for their morning walk. 

“I’ll have the guard take you again today.” 

Dee’s enthusiasm stuttered. “Oh. Okay,” he murmured in response, a little disappointed. He liked spending time with Roman… But it was okay. He’d join him again tomorrow.

He didn’t.

Or the next day, or the next…

Dee sat on the bench by the pond, crying quietly. Jericho was standing beneath a tree a little ways away, and Dee faced away from him so he wouldn’t see his tears. 

Roman wasn’t going to come on another walk with him. He’d...he’d gotten bored of him again…

He found someone to palm me off to and now he doesn’t bother with me anymore, Dee thought bitterly as more tears streamed down his face. He brought his knees up to his chest, hugging himself as he cried. It had been almost two weeks since Roman had stopped coming to the gardens with him, and Dee felt lonelier than ever. Just when he thought his husband might be starting to care for him…

Stupid. He was stupid to let himself think that. Roman didn’t care about him. He just didn’t want to have to deal with him if he got sick. 

Roman didn’t care. 

He slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a sob, his shoulders shaking. 

For once in Virgil’s life, he had a day off. Ever since his arm had been broken, his healer had been taking much more notice of him than they ever had before, which was both a blessing and a curse, as Virgil often forgot to look after himself, so the reminders that he needed to eat, to hydrate, to go outside and get some sunlight, were very much appreciated. What was not appreciated, however, was the constant insistence that he stop working so hard. That he take more breaks. 

Virgil had ignored their insistence for too long, it seemed, because his healer had gone straight to the King, knowing how close they were, and requested that Patton order him to take a day off.

So here he was. Taking a day off. The only problem was, he didn’t know what on earth he was supposed to do with his free day. 

He was so used to his schedule, to constantly working, that the forced hiatus due to his broken arm had left him bored to tears in the weeks that he had healed, and now that he was back to being in near peak condition, he loathed having to repeat the experience, even if it was just one day. 

He sighed, and his mind drifted to Dee, as it often did. He hadn’t seen the Prince for months, not since that night… He had almost asked after him to Prince Roman on several occasions during their lessons but had thought better of it each time. Roman seemed to have calmed down around him after their first few lessons back, and Virgil was in no hurry to disrupt that or to put Dee in danger. 

The downside to not asking, though, was that Virgil had no idea how Dee was - if he had recovered, if he was healthy, if he was happy, even… Virgil hoped so, even if he doubted it.

He looked around himself, trying to stop thinking about Dee for just one moment while he tried to figure out what to do with his day. After a few minutes of wandering, his eyes caught on the entrance to the Royal Garden, and he abruptly recalled the yellow roses he knew were held within. 

Dee would love them…

He sighed. Even if he couldn’t give a rose to Dee like he so longed to do, it would be nice to pick one, just for himself. As a reminder. 

His mind made up, Virgil strolled to the gardens, intending to spend maybe an hour at the most there. For about ten minutes he wandered around, trying to remember where the roses were, when he stopped, noticing a guard beneath a tree, some hundred paces away from him. Odd, the guard looked to be on duty. Who was he guarding? 

He strode over to the guard, recognising him as Jericho, one of the younger ones who’d been accepted into the Royal Guard at the beginning of the year. “Hey, Jericho,” he said, and the guard snapped his attention to him, saluting.

“Good afternoon, Captain,” he said stiffly.

“At ease,” Virgil said with a chuckle. “What’re you doing?”

Jericho relaxed. “I’m guarding Prince Dolion, Captain,” he said, and Virgil’s eyes widened fractionally. Dee. He looked around, and sure enough, there Dee was, sitting hunched over on a bench beside the pond. Based on his posture alone, Virgil could guess that something was wrong. 

He pressed his lips together, thinking for a minute, before digging a couple of gold coins out of his pocket. “Don’t tell Roman I was here, kay?” He murmured to Jericho, offering the coins to him. 

Jericho looked down at them, and Virgil watched him debate with himself for a few moments before accepting Virgil’s offering. “I haven’t seen you today,” he said, then angled his head away and fixed his gaze on some birds in the distance. Virgil smiled, clapping him on the shoulder, and walking over to the bench.

“Dee?” He prompted softly.

Dee jumped, whipping around to face him. 

“V-Virgil!” He stuttered, his eyes wide and darting around as if searching for danger. “You- you can’t be here! Roman will-”

“Roman won’t know,” Virgil promised, his voice gentle as he sat down next to Dee, giving him plenty of space.

“You swear it?” Dee asked a little shakily.

“I swear it.”

Dee exhaled sharply, and Virgil was knocked back as Dee abruptly threw himself at him, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist and burying his face against Virgil’s chest. Virgil curled his own arms around Dee’s back, holding him close. 

“I’ve missed you,” He whispered.

“I’ve missed you, too,” Dee whispered in return, his voice somewhat muffled by the fabric of Virgil’s jacket. 

“Are you okay?” Virgil asked, tracing light circles over Dee’s back. “Are you hurt?” Dee shook his head, and Virgil breathed a sigh of relief. 

“He hasn’t hurt me for a while,” Dee murmured, “I’ve been good…” 

The words carved through Virgil like a knife, and it took a great amount of restraint not to react in a way that might upset Dee further. 

“I’m glad he hasn’t hurt you,” he said carefully, keeping his voice soft. “I’ve been worried about you…”

“I’m alright,” Dee promised. He hugged him tighter, then pulled back, sitting up on the bench so that their shoulders touched. “How is your arm?”

“There’s no pain anymore, and my healer allowed me to begin training several weeks ago.” Virgil informed him, nudging him gently and rolling his wrist to demonstrate that he was okay. He felt Dee relax against him slightly.

“I’m relieved that there was no lasting damage,” Dee said softly.

“As am I,” he agreed. 

They sat in silence for a little while, watching the ducks floating around on the surface of the pond, and simply enjoying each other’s company. Virgil knew he couldn’t stay for too long. Knew that sometime soon, he would have to leave, before Roman’s schedule cleared in a few hours. But until then, he and Dee would sit here, on this bench.

And if they held each other’s hands, if they murmured soft words of tenderness and affection…

Nobody had to know but them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, that's the end of Arc 1. These 12 chapters were written for the 2019 TS Big Bang, and now that it's over, there probably won't be any updates for a while, because I'm all writed out at this point. That being said, this fic is far from done, and I look forward to having the energy to finish it. Stay tuned!


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